


Consequences

by Nikita



Series: Once More [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bonding, Consequences, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suspicion, Torture, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikita/pseuds/Nikita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy pulled himself together and turned back to face his friend, taking a deep breath he said it straight out loud.  "Jim - I did marry Spock - the *Other* Spock."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this sequel on my journal back in 2010, but was uncertain if I should post it here. I have since been encouraged by several readers so I decided to get off my butt and post it already! It is finished, but needs editing (I work without a beta so if you see a glaring mistake please do let me know). 
> 
> I'll post the chapters as read through and clean them up. Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and enthusiastic!! I cherish each kudos and comment. They make my day and encourage me to get back to writing again. Thank you!!

Pt. 1

Leonard H. McCoy sat back in his seat on the shuttle back to the Enterprise and tried to calm the whirling thoughts within himself as they were approaching the Enterprise soon and he wanted his mind to be as clear and focused as possible.   

He'd never thought he'd get married again, that's for damned sure. After what his wife put him through - he'd sworn off it. Never again would he let someone into his life that deeply - never again would he promise to love and cherish another only to be betrayed and then ripped to pieces. And yet here he was married, or the Vulcan equivalent, an even stronger bond than a human marriage to a 155-year old Vulcan male from the future - or an alternative version of the future, _whatever_.

It wasn't exactly how he'd seen things going when he'd first agreed to go to New Vulcan and help the survivors with their 'medical situation.' Situation - that had been putting it mildly - as only Vulcans could do best. He'd assisted in more than fifty births, trained his staff to handle the rest and - oh yes, _experienced_ the Pon Farr first hand. That first encounter with Spock in the shuttle had been just the tip of the iceberg, compared to what had happened afterwards.

***

It had taken a little more convincing to get Spock to formally bond with him, but in the end it wasn't Sarek or T'Pau who had convinced the recalcitrant Vulcan - McCoy had laid it out logically - what would McCoy's counterpart have wanted? Would he have wanted Spock to commit suicide? Would he have wanted him to abandon the newly founded colony - a colony that needed his vast knowledge and wisdom to guide it? And then, after convincing Sarek and T'Pau to give them a moment alone, he did what he'd seen in his mind during their time on the shuttle together when Spock had shared his memories with him. He'd taken Spock's hand in his own and traced his two forefingers against Spock's, sliding them up and down as he'd seen in Spock's mind. 

The sensation they had both felt had been indescribable for McCoy, but he'd laid himself out vulnerable to Spock, showing the love he felt for him. He knew there was a huge age difference, he knew they were from different universes; he knew he wasn't Spock's T'hyla from that universe that would not be anymore. He knew all this, but he had experienced the deep love, affection, desire, and passion through the meld - and he'd fallen in love with him - it was no illusion, though perhaps part echo, but also real feelings within the short time he'd known him.

Did Spock not feel the same way? He had seen McCoy's past in the meld - it was not much different than the McCoy of the other universe - it was true - he didn't have the years they had spent together on the Enterprise and after, but did he feel no love for the man standing before him? He demanded Spock answer him and Spock had nodded with a sob, his fingers trembling as they traced Leonard's in return. It wouldn't be the same relationship Spock had had with the other McCoy, but that didn't mean they couldn't forge a new one.

After a formal ceremony with T'Pau presiding, they spent the next few days alone together in Spock's room. It wasn't exactly the kind of honeymoon a human could wish for, but they'd made do. Refreshments of fruit, some type of porridge substance, water, and vitamin supplements were left discretely outside their door at regular intervals.   McCoy would snake a hand out the door and drag it in, towel wrapped around his waist. Spock was insatiable - 'who would have thought the old man had it in him?' he had thought, as the Pon Farr fires had finally seemed to cool.

_//Is that a compliment, T'hyla, or an insult?//_

McCoy had laughed and set the latest tray down on the table. "Not an insult, that's for sure, it's just surprising is all. I would have thought your human half would have slowed you down a tad."

Spock gave him a rare smile, small, but still a genuine smile. "It _is_ the Pon Farr - under regular conditions, though, I believe I would have the sexual drive of a man around 50 earth years. Not as virile as you, but still quite capable." 

McCoy smiled at that. "And will we get to test out that theory of yours?"

Spock sat up from his position in bed and pulled a robe on. "The Pon Farr has abated by now. My mind is clear and I feel no more affects of the burning. We could test it now, but I think you would most likely appreciate eating and resting for now." 

McCoy winced as he sat down to eat. "Yes, I could do with a rest. Actually, I need to check you over after we've eaten and make sure you really are through the Pon Farr before releasing you back to your duties...and then I'm afraid I must return to mine at the medical facilities."

Spock reached for a slice of fruit and remained sitting on the bed. McCoy looked around the small dismal room and thought if he was going to visit him on New Vulcan more, he was going to have to talk to Spock about getting a bigger room - and some more furniture.

_//As a bonded couple we will of course have larger accommodations - they will be far more comfortable on your next visit.//_

Which only reminded McCoy of his short time on the colony. He had one more week and then there would be a shuttle taking him back to the Enterprise. He stretched a hand out and stroked the back of Spock's hand. The tension and stoicism was gone from his face, and he seemed so much more different than when McCoy had met him - not to mention his counterpart on the Enterprise - this Spock seemed content and almost...happy. McCoy was thrilled to think he had a small part in that.

_//You do - a large part - I have not felt this way in many years...and I am content to think I have some part in your happy emotions I feel right now.//_

McCoy decided to practice his own telepathic speech that Spock had been teaching him through the bond, _//You have and more - I feel...I don't know exactly, perhaps, complete, whole. Like there was something missing and I didn't even realize it. After Jocelyn...I never thought I'd love again. I never thought I'd want to risk my emotional well being by depending on another.//_

_//I felt the same way.//_

And realizing Spock meant the other McCoy, Leonard fell silent, irrationally jealous at his other counterpart - a silly emotion to have, really.

Spock stroked his two fingers against McCoy's, _//I do not fool myself that you are the same person, you are different and yet not. I love you and I do not expect you to behave or act in the same manner - you are your own person for all your similarities and differences. And our relationship will be very different. No one can know what will happen for sure - especially between us - I know all these things and accept them. Do you? You will be returning to the Enterprise soon - I will not see you again for an indeterminate amount of time, yet I will look forward to your return. I hope you will as well.//_

McCoy had nodded and traced their fingers back and forth, enjoying the tingling sensation and the mental intimacy. He was so content he could almost think of changing his mind and staying. How could he leave such happiness behind?

_//No, T'hyla, you have your duties and I have mine. You belong on the Enterprise - and Jim and my counterpart will need you just as you will need them.//_

"Damned know-it-all Vulcan," McCoy hissed pulling his hand free - "just because things happened one way in one universe doesn't mean they have to be the same in this one. You just said so yourself. And they can't be the same. Just look around you - your people are endangered, living on a strange land, the Klingon Empire is nearly decimated, Jim is captain years ahead of his time and your counterpart...well, I saw you in that other universe in my mind - you two are not much alike. How can you tell me that my going back is necessary? I can make my own decisions, thank you very much."

Spock nodded. "I know. But I also know that Jim needs you - and so do the rest of the bridge crew and the ship itself - and your arguments were always a counterbalance to my own - my counterpart is no different in that respect - he has much to learn - all of you do. You three together strike a balance - one you were just finding when I called for you. _//I did not make the decision lightly, but I needed you then and now I must release you, no matter how much I will miss you.//_

McCoy was choked up, far more upset than he'd expected. _//Say that again, out loud.//_

"I will miss you," Spock said softly. "But you and I both know your duty lies on the Enterprise and thanks to you I realize now that I still am needed here. _//And that I am still wanted and loved...//_ But we will make time for one another, I hope." _//Leonard, parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched....//_ Spock's deep voice resonated in his head, reassuring. 

Leonard stood and went over to the bed, wrapping his arms around the older man and kissing him passionately. It was not a Vulcan custom to kiss, but a human one - one that the other McCoy had taught Spock well over the years.

They held one another for what seemed like an eternity, slowly merging their minds and making love - no burning or rituals involved. Simply exploring each other's bodies again, this time without urgency. 

McCoy marveled in beholding the green-tinted member rising at his touch. He'd never had sex with an alien before and the experience had been thankfully not too different to ruin the mood. Vulcans were quite similar in many respects - especially those that mattered right now. He gave the cock a long lick and enjoyed Spock's gasp. Their previous encounters had all been about penetration and the Vulcan need to plant his seed deep in his lover's body. 'Now,' McCoy, thought, 'there are a few other things we can do since it seems the Pon Farr is indeed over.’ McCoy licked again and then began to swirl his tongue when - '

 

"Excuse me, Doctor McCoy? We're docking with the Enterprise in approximately 5 minutes, you asked me to let you know," the Ensign called over his shoulder. 

McCoy was shocked out of his memory with an unpleasant reminder of where he was and scowled at the back of the man's head, he quickly made sure his bag was still on his lap and thanked the pilot tersely. Damn it, was he going to start behaving like a horny teenager now? He'd had more sex in those few weeks than he could remember having in too many years to count. Surely he should be tired by now. 

He excused himself to the 'fresher, bag still strategically placed, and locked himself in. Looking at his flushed face he hoped the Ensign hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary while McCoy was so deep into his own memories. He splashed cold water on his face and thought of ice cold showers and his Great Aunt Rose's underpants flapping in the breeze on the clothesline he'd seen once as a boy while visiting her farm. 

There, problem solved. For now. However was he going to face months without his husband? The loneliness he usually dealt with just fine on his own suddenly seemed magnified and he wasn't quite sure he'd be able to handle it as well. He'd have to find a way to rein it in and content himself with communicating with Spock through subspace messages like other couples did. He'd find a way, he reassured himself. He could make do with what he little he had, he always had in the past.

***

Walking aboard the Enterprise he _did_ feel he was in the right place again - home. Not that he'd admit it to Spock willingly. He'd missed the ship, missed the wonderful brand new sickbay, which he'd personally overseen the refitting when they'd docked for repairs after the whole Nero episode. And he relished the thought that he was CMO of the best ship in the 'fleet. 

Okay, okay, maybe he'd admit to Spock he'd been right. He was a doctor and while he could have been one on New Vulcan, it seemed the colonists were determined to return to having Vulcan healers **only** as soon as possible so any job there wouldn't have been permanent, much less welcome. His volunteers would remain there for the next cycle of births and then the Vulcans had told them they had trained enough new people that they could handle the situation after that. So much for gratitude - the Vulcans had been positively frostbitten about accepting help from aliens and he was quite sure they'd make sure never to need outside help again if they could possibly manage it.

Perhaps that was a good attitude, though, self-sufficiency and getting things back to normal. He wondered what would have happened if they hadn't bowed to the Older Spock's experience and wisdom. He was the sole reason they'd allowed Offworlders to know of the Pon Farr at all - and it was still classified information.

Here…well, on the Enterprise there was never a dull day - birthing babies was of course a rewarding experience and seeing the colonists thriving had been a very positive experience, but the repetitious work had left him a little bored after a while. Spock was right, he needed the Enterprise. But did it still need him? He certainly hoped so, especially once he told his best friend and superior just what he'd been up to during his stay on New Vulcan. 

He decided to seek out Jim now since the Captain was coming off duty in twenty minutes. Best to get it over with; though maybe he'd rustle up a few drinks to let the telling go a little easier. He left an invitation for Jim to meet him in his quarters. He worried how his friend would take it. His hands trembled slightly as he put his clothes away in the drawers of his room. This was going to be one hell of a confession.

****

Spock sat down in the command chair as Kirk left for the turbolift. He heard Uhura in the background getting ready for her own shift change and felt a twinge of regret. At one time she might have stayed late after her shift change and do some outside research or switch duty times to be on the bridge with him without Captain Kirk as a buffer, but ever since their break up she'd done her best to do her job efficiently and no more, avoiding personal contact as much as possible.

She left as her relief came in and he knew without turning to look that she had glanced at the back of his head and then quickly away. She would always be professional, he knew, but he also had a better understanding now just why inter-personnel relationships were discouraged. 

On Earth he had not felt the danger of the consequences in engaging in a relationship with her. After all, he'd never intended they serve aboard the same ship, but she, of course, had other ideas. He did not regret her reassignment to the Enterprise moments before they had left for Vulcan as she had proved herself invaluable in the resulting situation. He did, however, regret how often during that time he had leaned on Uhura for emotional support or displayed such undignified emotional displays of affection in front of other crewmembers. He had compromised his position on board the Enterprise, not to mention how he had attacked Jim Kirk, giving into his most base nature in a way he hadn't since childhood.

Spock had ruminated on the situation during their time on base for the re-outfitting of the ship before breaking off the relationship with Nyota, she had been upset, but he had reminded her that, while he would always be grateful to her for her support and the experiences they had shared, he could not allow a personal relationship influence his actions again. He had asked for her friendship instead and she had unfortunately been hurt by this (necessary) distancing between them. His father had counseled him not to try and bury his feelings during the Nero episode, but once Nero and the threat were gone, he'd felt that he'd strayed from the Vulcan way too much - both before the episode and during. 

He would always miss his mother, but she was gone and with her, he felt a severing with his more emotional human side.   He had told Kirk that Earth was his only home left, but that was not quite true - there was also a Vulcan colony and the survivors there who were rebuilding what they could of their civilization. How could he abandon his own part in those rituals and in keeping the civilization alive? His counterpart had assured him he would take care of that side of his responsibilities on the colony and Spock was grateful. He did not wish to leave the Enterprise.

He felt a yearning to see his own people still alive and thriving in their own colony one day soon, though when that day would come he did not know. The Enterprise was warping towards their latest mission and he needed to focus on that for now.  

Putting thoughts of Uhura and New Vulcan aside he focused on Jim's latest notes on his log to be certain he was up to date. McCoy had returned from his 'top secret medical mission' an hour ago. Spock was still unsure why the captain did not trust him with the knowledge of what the mission was, but he was bound by regulations to obey and not ask any questions for now. He only hoped the mission had been successful. Perhaps Kirk was meeting with the man now for a debriefing. He checked their portable comms and saw they were indeed in McCoy's room alone.

A thought struck Spock for an instant, but then just as quickly he discounted it, surely the two were not lovers. Jim Kirk had made his preference for women obvious - especially his flirting with Uhura, which thankfully the captain had not done since Spock's revelation of their 'break up.' He'd actually been very understanding.

"After all," Kirk had said in a rare compassionate voice, "you've been through a lot lately. You two may well patch things up as time goes by. If you need someone to speak to - well, I don't have a whole lot of experience with long-term relationships actually...maybe Bones would be a better idea. He was married - even if it did end badly. That might make him a perfect person to talk to, though - he knows the pain and the consequences of a bad break up. And I can speak from personal experience that he can be an easy person to talk to - he has psychiatric experience, but that's not why I unload on him sometimes, he's just a damn good listener."

Spock had known that it was yet another hint by his captain to try and 'get along' better with the CMO, but he found the idea of speaking to McCoy on such a personal topic distasteful, not to mention unnecessary. He and Uhura had not been married and their dissolution of their relationship (after Nyota's brief angry response and emotional pleas), had been in every other way amicable unlike McCoy's marriage. It would be illogical to bring up such a topic. He would no longer allow his emotions to compromise his performance on board the ship.

****

"You did WHAT?!" Kirk spit out his drink and actually dropped the glass at McCoy's revelation of his bond to the Other Spock. McCoy tossed him a towel and crossed his arms, glaring down at his captain from across the room.

"I got married - in a way - bonded is how they put it. I fell in love, Jim. Something you might want to consider trying sometime - one night stands your whole life aren't exactly fulfilling when you're old and alone. And you better clean that mess up yourself, I'm a doctor, not a butler."

Jim stared at the towel in his hands his mind spinning and ignored the mess until McCoy growled and came to snatch it out of his hands.

"No, no - wait, let me clean it. I'm sorry, okay? I just... _married_?! You? You swore to me you'd rather be stranded on the surface of Rura Pentha naked than marry another woman. _Once was more than enough_ you said." He picked up the shards of glass and cut a finger, it began to bleed and sting like hell with the alcohol, "Ouch!" 

McCoy sighed deeply and pulled out his ever-ready med kit open and sealed the wound and then pushed Kirk back onto the bunk and started on the job himself while talking. "I did say all that and I meant it. And I didn't marry - I mean - bond with a woman so I didn't break that vow, now did I?"

Kirk stared at him, mouth agape. He blinked several times and if his thumb hadn’t still been throbbing he'd think it was a dream. "You married a MAN?!"

McCoy threw the towel down, the mess still on the floor, he was getting rather angry at the way this conversation was going already and he hadn't even gotten to the most important part of the story. What was Jim going to say **then**?

 _//T'hyla, I could really use some help now.//_ he said desperately in his mind, though he knew there would be no answer this far away from the colony.

"Yes, Jim, there are more sexual combinations available to humans and other alien races than just a man and a woman," he said in his most snide voice, "I know full well you've had ménage a trois a few times - never once with another guy as the third party?"

"NO!" Jim said, flushing bright red, then realized he was probably insulting his friend. "Not that there's anything wrong with...well...but...I never knew - is that why your marriage broke up?" he suddenly asked. It all made sense suddenly, why McCoy's wife would be so hell bent on getting even if she'd felt betrayed that way.

Leonard sat down on his chair by the computer. "No - I'm not gay, bisexual maybe is the way to put it, and I never thought the details of my divorce were any of your business, but if you must know…I caught her cheating with another man. A friend of mine, in fact. Tell you the truth I could have gotten a lot more in the divorce if I'd been as cold hearted as her and gotten a damn good divorce attorney, as it is I went on a bit of a drinking binge and she used that against me as well as abandonment - as if finishing my residency and having to work my ass off and support a wife and child was abandonment - I warned her when we married it would be tough, but I'd make it up to her." McCoy sighed and rubbed his eyes, he was so tired - part of it was physical and part of it was the mental memories of those days.

"It's not like I didn't want to see my wife and daughter every chance I could, but I - I was just so busy and so stressed out and... Damn it!” Leonard sighed, “Maybe I did neglect her - I must've considering how long the affair went on, I found out later she'd been screwing him for two years. Joanna called him daddy last time I saw them all together in court." A tear ran down McCoy's face as he said this and he turned away from his friend quickly to hide it. 

He heard Jim get up and put hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Bones, I'm acting like an ass - I'm just trying to understand. Please, let's stop talking about her. Tell me about _him_ \- the guy - he's _Vulcan_? Because I'm having an even harder time wrapping my mind around **that** fact, I tell you. You don't even get along with Spock and he's half human," Jim joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

McCoy pulled himself together and turned back to face his friend, taking a deep breath he said it straight out loud. "Jim - I **did** marry Spock - the _Other Spock_." 

Whether it was the still slippery floor or Jim's knees buckling, one way or another Kirk ended up on the floor with a nasty cut on his head and a concussion from the edge of McCoy's bunk.

McCoy quickly commed sickbay for a stretcher and help and muttered to himself, "Well, that could have gone better..." 

***

Spock was on the bridge feeling very odd when he got the call from sickbay that the captain was injured, but stable and in staying overnight for observation only. He'd be back on duty in the morning, most likely.

A pointed eyebrow rose at that - what could possibly have happened in McCoy's quarters? Finally unable to let the matter rest without investigating it himself, he left Sulu at the conn and went to sickbay himself rather than ask for more details. 

The lights in sickbay were dimmed for the comfort of the sleeping patient. McCoy was just finishing the sealant on Jim's forehead when he entered. The captain's clothes had a distinct odor of alcohol and blood. McCoy's did as well. Humanity’s fascination with poisonous substances like alcohol were indeed a frequent component to accidents of such nature, but surely the two had not been alone long enough to become that drunk - and should the doctor be treating him at all if he was inebriated? 

McCoy glanced up at him and away quickly, almost guiltily, but his voice was the same strong professional tone he always had on duty. "I'm not drunk or under the influence, Spock. In fact I didn't have a drop. Kirk didn't either, he spat his out and dropped his glass, he then slipped in the puddle and cut himself and banged his head a good one on the corner of my bed. I helped him up on the stretcher and we may smell like a couple of drunken sots, but we're not so you can get that smug look off your face."

Spock raised his eyebrows at the tirade, but nodded, thankful his conclusions were wrong. "I see, and _what_ , may I ask, caused the captain to become so accident prone so quickly?"

"You may ask," McCoy said smugly himself and turned his back on him to speak to Nurse Chapel.

"Get him cleaned up before any more crewmembers see him and keep an eye on him. Wake him every half hour just in case and perform a neural exam – can’t be too careful with that noggin of his. If he asks for me comm me, but I'm sure he’ll be just fine. I’m going to clean up myself and take a nap. I'm exhausted."

"Of course, Doctor. And we're glad to have you back. I hope everything went well on your mission," she said quietly.

Both were ignoring Spock's presence still in the room, well McCoy was, Christine kept glancing at him when she thought the Vulcan wasn't looking. 'Great,' McCoy thought, 'all the straight women either have a crush on Kirk or Spock on this ship.’ McCoy might be bonded, but it didn't mean he didn't have a little bit of an ego – ‘how come they never fall for me?’ he wondered sullenly. It was a jealous thought and one he quickly crushed. He was happy with the Other Spock; actually, he didn't need the complications of a crush to deal with, he should be happy with the status quo.

Speaking of complications...McCoy moved to pass Spock, when the Vulcan put a hand on his arm. Leonard froze, quickly making sure his own shields were firmly in place just as his own Spock had shown him. 

Spock's eyes, so familiar, looked deeply into McCoy’s own, demanding the truth. "I asked you a question, Doctor. What happened to the captain in your room?"

McCoy tugged his arm out of Spock's grip; Spock released him quickly, thankfully, for McCoy would never have been able to win an arm wrestling fight with the Vulcan anyway.

"No, you asked _if you could ask_ what happened - I said you _may_." Seeing Spock's face, however, made him continue, reluctantly. "He had surprising news, and like I said – he dropped his drink and then when he stood up he slipped and hit his head hard, okay? And before you ask - the news is private between the Captain and myself for the moment and I'm really not in the mood to share right now." 

With that he hurried back to his quarters. He knew he could not avoid Spock's question forever - he'd have to tell him of the bond - he'd spoken about it in great length with his own Spock, but they had neither of them concrete answers on how the other Spock would react and McCoy was just too tired to deal with it right now. He truly was...the work on New Vulcan and his journey back to the Enterprise and dealing with Jim...he was glad to see a yeoman had cleaned up the mess on his floor after the med team had come through, so he just stripped and stepped into the sonic shower stall for a quick cleaning and then fell, naked onto his bed.

****

Spock found himself pacing his room that night. He was off duty and required little sleep. Normally he'd work on one of his many research projects or meditate if he was having difficulty doing either as he was at the moment, but he found even that refuge impossible.

Something was _wrong_. Something had changed aboard the ship and he could pinpoint it to the moment McCoy had returned to the ship. Perhaps even earlier, but the.... _feeling_ was the only word he could think of to describe it - the _feeling_ of wrongness had become far more sharpened and focused upon the return of the Doctor to the Enterprise. It must have something to do with the secret mission - with Jim's sudden accident in McCoy's rooms. And whatever had happened was causing Spock's telepathic and mental equilibrium to be off-balance. He tried to calm himself, calling on all the techniques he'd learned as a child to build shields within his own mind - and was reminded of the shields he'd felt in McCoy's mind when he'd touched him in Sickbay. McCoy had learned how to build shields the same way - he had blocked any attempt Spock might have made to read his emotions or surface thoughts - this revelation stopped him in his tracks. 

Not just that the doctor suddenly knew how to make mental shields, but that the way he did it was as a Vulcan would. Using the very same imagery and techniques that Spock himself used. Every Vulcan learned the basics of shielding the same way as a class, but each individual learned more advanced techniques on their own and Spock, being half human had perhaps the most unique techniques in order to settle the more impulsive human side of his mind. McCoy had those techniques...

Suddenly Spock knew exactly where McCoy had been - he'd been on New Vulcan or wherever Spock's counterpoint from the other universe was currently...and he'd learned Vulcan shielding techniques from him – _but why_?

Spock turned on his heel and headed towards McCoy’s quarters. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.


	2. Chapter 2

****

Part Two

  

Some noise was bugging him and he didn’t like it, McCoy fuzzily swatted at his right ear as if it was a mosquito or fly buzzing around it. The noise didn’t stop. But as he was slowly waking up more he began to realize it must’ve been the chime on his door, and then he further awakened when he heard Spock’s voice authorizing an override on his door lock. McCoy had only a second to glance down at his still naked body and hastily gather up the top cover as Spock strode in, his face stern and almost angry.

“What in blazes do you think you’re doing?!” McCoy shouted as he tried to cover himself up.

Spock’s eyes widened at the doctor’s nudity and he turned to the side, facing away as he knew human social conventions would demand, but could think of nothing to say, he’d been frustrated at the lack of answer by the occupant only moments ago and when he’d overridden the door lock he’d obviously overreacted, thinking the doctor was being insubordinate. McCoy must’ve been too deep in sleep to hear the chime – he had mentioned his exhaustion in sickbay only two hours earlier. Once again Spock had allowed his emotions to overcome him. He’d thought the doctor was ignoring him and evading him as he had in sickbay and so he’d leapt to wrong conclusion and acted on it.

“All right, damn it, you can turn around, and tell me what the hell was so damn important you had to burst into my quarters?! I don’t see puddles of green blood on the floor so it can’t be a medical emergency.” McCoy was clearly angry and Spock couldn’t blame him so he ignored the profanity and lack of respect due to his position as First Officer. 

He turned and saw that the doctor was standing wrapped up in the blanket up to his chest and covering all but his feet with one bare arm exposed clutching it tight at the shoulder. He also saw a huge scowl on the man’s face, but there was a hint of something in his eyes…something like – he had a good idea of just why Spock was there. Spock’s need to talk to the doctor increased with this notation, but there was no excuse for his impetuous behavior.

“My apologies, doctor. I did not realize your lack of answer to the door chime was because you were so deeply asleep. You had mentioned your need for rest – Vulcan hearing is far more acute and I hadn’t taken the possibility of human auditory ability when combined with exhaustion into account. I shall come back later when you have had more time to recover from your mission.” Spock turned to leave, he wasn’t sure if he was reluctant to leave without answers or eager to depart from the awkward situation – dealing with humans in such intimate settings were always perplexing.

“Now wait a damn minute, you barged in here just because I didn’t answer your summons fast enough so you must have a good reason.” McCoy shifted, hitching the blanket up slightly.

Spock noticed he looked resigned, though still angry.

“And I’m **wide awake** now, thanks to _you_. So if you’ll just wait here, I’ll put my uniform on in the ‘fresher and we can talk. I have to get back to sickbay soon anyway. I doubt I could sleep again so soon after this ruckus,” McCoy gestured vaguely towards the chair at his computer consol and grabbed a uniform on his way without waiting for Spock’s reply. Spock was only slightly shocked at the doctor’s imperious tone, but complied. He was becoming used to the doctor’s strong personality. It was in some ways refreshing, though he would never tell McCoy that. The human had a way of… _how would the doctor put it_? ‘Cutting through the bullshit,’ Spock seemed to remember hearing once. It certainly was an improvement to many of the other human crewmembers who liked to engage in what they called ‘small talk’ or employ other techniques in avoiding important discussions.

As the ‘fresher door closed the blanket slipped slightly and Spock noticed a few unhealed bruises on the man’s upper back and shoulders, particularly what appeared to be…a hickey? Uhura had once given him one and he’d been shocked at such primal way of marking one during lovemaking. He had never told her he’d rather enjoyed it – he pushed the errant thought from his mind. It made no difference now. Spock’s curiosity of just where McCoy had been and what he’d been up to increased considerably, though. Granted, such marks could have happened on the transit back to the Enterprise…

Spock had no further chance to ruminate as the doctor emerged, brushing his hair in regulation fashion, and then tossing the blanket haphazardly back on the bed before sitting on the edge of it.

“All right, Spock, out with it. What do you want?” he asked in a resigned tone, the anger seemed to have deflated.

“I do not quite know how to begin. Your mission from which you just returned from is classified and I have no wish to defy regulations in asking about it, but I have a strong suspicion that I know where you were. You were dealing with the survivors at New Vulcan – or at least that you were in contact with my counterpart during your mission and this knowledge or the possibility of it will not allow me peace until I have spoken to you about it. I do not know how else to put it…” Spock struggled with his words. He had stridden down the hall of the Enterprise to the doctor’s room with a great sense of purpose and now he was at a loss as how to proceed. He should have thought more on how he would handle this situation. He was normally far more prepared and this feeling of imbalance and _wrongness_ was increasing now that he was in close vicinity with the human again. 

McCoy didn’t seem confused, though, he simply nodded. “I _was_ on New Vulcan,” he said simply. “I’m sorry that information was held from you until now – it was at the request of your counterpart and also of your father and the other Elders. They released me from my obligation to keep this information from you should you ask me so I’m not breaking any regulations now. You can ask me anything you want.” This last sentence had a bit of hesitation to it. The doctor almost looked frightened for a moment before stiffening his shoulders and slipping his professional mask back into place.

Spock raised his eyebrow as was his want when given surprising news. “And why did my father and counterpart not wish me to know of a medical emergency in the colony?” his voice was tightly controlled. 

McCoy sighed and rubbed his face, abandoning his rather lame attempt at professionalism – he was still tired, he hadn’t had enough sleep for this conversation, but there was no choice in it.

“The medical emergency affected all Vulcans who were in the locality of the planet, or more accurately within the vicinity of the survivors themselves. Your presence there might have affected you, actually, I can say now it would definitely have affected you and it was their wish – and I agree – that you should be kept from it since you are not needed there at this time. I was sent to deal with setting up a larger medical center and training other doctors to deal with the sudden unexpected increase in births and possible complications.” McCoy checked Spock’s face, but there was an impassive mask set there, was that good or bad? He couldn’t tell, but continued anyway.

“There weren’t enough healers to deal with the sudden population boom going on. I have personally birthed quite a few Vulcans recently. The pointed ears are rather cute at that age, I’ll admit,” McCoy said with a tentative smile. It was pointless; Spock stood suddenly and began pacing.

“The Pon Farr – you were dealing with the Pon Farr and a sudden population boom is due to the biological imperative of my species to replenish our people.” His mind was racing with the knowledge – why did he not foresee this before? 

McCoy watched him warily, knowing how touchy Vulcans were about the Pon Farr knowledge. “Yes, I was called in by your counterpart – he told me he trusted me to deal with this especially as he had eventually trusted my counterpart in his universe during his own Pon Farr. It was his experience that helped the colony deal with letting Offworlders know about the phenomenon, but don’t worry, it’s all classified and only under certain conditions will it be shared at Starfleet Medical. We’ve done the best we can to keep it quiet out of respect for your people’s privacy. Jim knows, though, Spock – the other Spock wanted him to know, too. But it goes no further on the Enterprise, I promise you.”

Spock was embarrassed to know that even one human knew of the Pon Farr, and to think it was his own counterpart’s actions…but if the situation was dire, then it was the only logical thing to do. And his counterpart obviously trusted McCoy - or rather McCoy’s counterpart just as he'd trusted Kirk from his experiences in the other universe. That was when he seized on one part of McCoy’s speech: “I went through the Pon Farr then, in the other universe?” 

McCoy nodded, “You weren’t sure because of your human side, right? It snuck up on him – the other Spock – he hadn’t known exactly when or even _if_ to expect it to happen to him, and there were difficulties getting you to Vulcan then, but we did get you there, apparently, but it didn’t go well….your betrothed refused you. But you survived the kal-if-fee and afterwards let her and her chosen one go free rather than claim her.”

Spock sat back down. “T’Pring? The name, the woman, was the same?”

“Yes. She didn’t survive in this universe, but I guess you must know that. So what happens now is up to you. If all goes according to the other timeline’s schedule and you stay away from New Vulcan, you should not experience the Pon Farr for several years, you have time to pick a new mate, one who _deserves_ you,” McCoy said roughly.

Spock raised his eyebrow again. “You seem emotionally involved in this matter. What does it matter to you who I choose to mate with?” he asked suspiciously. 

McCoy raised both eyebrows himself. “I don’t. I just…when Sp - your counterpart shared with me T’Pring’s betrayal and what you went through…I just felt… _relief_ maybe that you are free from experiencing that – and that you can find someone you _want_ to mate with, I know you didn’t love her, but you were too loyal and trusting in her loyalty. Now you are free to find someone who won’t **betray** you and nearly kill you." McCoy tried his best to keep the emotion from his voice, but he knew he was failing. Luckily Spock seemed far too preoccupied with the sudden knowledge of his own potential Pon Farr to notice.

Spock looked away from him, he didn't want to think on that now - especially not so soon after Uhura...he thought of the mission and how long McCoy was gone and then he remembered McCoy's shielding abilities and his need to understand that situation.

"Since you seem to be willing to share so much knowledge with me all of a sudden...please tell me, doctor: how is it my counterpart came to teach you to shield yourself from touch telepathy - and _why_?" 

McCoy blinked at that, and then looked down at the wrinkled blanket he was sitting on. He couldn't leave it like that before going back to work; he stood and began to straighten the bed, avoiding the question. A totally useless gesture, ‘but he wasn’t ready – damn it, he just wasn’t ready…’

Spock watched the obvious evasion with increasing interest. "Doctor? I did not mean to invade your privacy when I touched you in sickbay, but I should have at least felt your surface emotions and even strong enough thoughts without a mindmeld, but you immediately put up strong shields, and they were obviously taught to you by my counterpart." 

McCoy tucked in his last hospital corner and sat down again, his eyes scanned the room looking for distraction before sighing and looking at Spock with resignation. "Spock taught them to me, yes. Your counterpart - he wanted me to have the ability."

"Why should he think a human needs this ability? How closely did you work with my counterpart?" Spock was suddenly feeling rather strong emotions he couldn't quite identify, he knew his voice was lowering dangerously and tried again to rein in his emotions – it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

McCoy looked down at his hands clasped before him and began to speak, not meaning to look up or stop until he had the whole story out in the open. "When your counterpart contacted me...he was in the beginning of Pon Farr. It snuck up on him again...even at his age - like I said, close contact in that colony will spark the Pon Farr, even with your half human heritage and at his age – later on he told me he’d been past the time of Pon Farr in the other universe. He didn't tell me his condition, though, and he refused to be seen by the healers, but your father knew and the Elders did, too. They wanted me to examine him and to help them convince him to choose a mate. He needed to bond fast before it endangered his life. There were a few promising unbonded females of good families – all quite willing. He refused. He snuck out and stole the Starfleet shuttle."

Spock shifted in his chair at this, but said nothing. He was embarrassed again at his behavior, even if it wasn't truly his own, but his counterpart’s. But then again, irrational behavior was part of the Pon Farr, especially in the later stages.

"Well, I was already on the shuttle – I knew he was up to something. The Pon Farr had him so distracted he didn’t even notice. I listened while he voice-locked himself out of the controls and aimed it at a Vulcan sun, ready to end his life rather than save it. He wouldn’t ‘pollute the remaining Vulcan population with his human blood’ and he said he didn’t even belong in this universe. And when he saw me, he tried to convince me to return the controls to him so he could dump me back on the colony and return on his suicide mission. I convinced him otherwise."

Spock leaned forward, "How?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper, but he knew…he knew now – he could sense it.

"I bonded with him." McCoy continued to stare at his clasped hands, he remembered the deep meld they'd shared in the shuttle, and he felt a drop of wetness on his hands and was shocked to realize it was one of his own tears. He brushed his eyes clear, roughly and clasped his hands again, still not looking at the silent Spock before him.

"Out of pity? Or was it a medical decision - your doctor's oath and duty to a dying man?" Spock asked his voice rising slightly, harsher.

McCoy looked up angrily, his face flushed red. "None of your business! Our bond is not based on pity, though, and I won't have you speak badly of it. I love him. He loves me."

Spock looked nearly as shocked as he had when his mother had died. "Love? You haven't known him long enough. I have heard of humans spout such banalities of love at first sight, but I seriously doubt that was the case even if such a thing could be true." 

McCoy stood, but backed away a step from the suddenly unstable Spock, his arms crossed. "We shared a mindmeld during the first part of the bond on the shuttle - in the other universe we were bondmates then, _in love_ , I saw it through his mind, but also my counterpart's memories and feelings that he shared with his T’hyla - they were so intertwined…they shared so many experiences. And through the meld I experienced what they did - it was overwhelming at first. I blacked out on the shuttle, luckily after we were already nearly at the colony, but I knew it was right the moment I woke...that we were right together. That I wanted that feeling for myself and that he wanted me, too. I still had to convince him, though – he wanted to give me every opportunity to back out, but I didn’t want to and I know he didn’t really want to, either. We couldn’t stay apart, it was too late, I’d experienced too much of what we could have.

“I was formally bonded with him the next day on New Vulcan with the full ceremony. You deserve to know, and Spock - he wanted to tell you, we _were_ thinking of setting up a rendezvous with him soon or for a long range comm so he could answer your questions, too, but he had a feeling that you would probably end up figuring it out and talking to me alone about it first. I had hoped to at least have _one day_ on board the Enterprise to tell you, though." 

McCoy scrubbed at his face and let his shoulders slump. There. It was out in the open, for better or for worse.

Spock was unnaturally still, though he stared at McCoy with inscrutable eyes. McCoy wasn't sure if Spock was going to hit him or leave without a word. He was hoping on the latter. Damn, he wished he wasn’t so tired. And Jim. Jim would likely try to leave Sickbay the second the nurses turned their back – he wanted to get there and check out his friend and captain himself – and he still had a lot of explaining to do with _him_ , too. Lord there weren’t enough hours in the day sometimes…

The first officer finally broke his gaze and got up, pacing the room. He clasped his hands behind his back as if he was about to give a review. The doctor waited uneasily.

Suddenly Spock stopped and looked McCoy in the eye, his expression a bit more understanding, but still stern. “You have been through a great deal...I will give you some time to recover and readjust to your duties on the ship. And I will contact my counterpart as well. But you do realize there may be unforeseen consequences from this bond? There is no past data to compare this to, but being bonded with my counterpart....you and I being on the same ship may not be wise." Spock headed towards the door, but stopped at McCoy’s suddenly anxious voice behind him.

"That's why he taught me to shield. I know how to block my thoughts from you and the two of you are different in many ways, at least mentally – he’s had a long life experience that you haven’t had – he’s learned disciplines that you haven’t – or haven’t yet. And he still believes strongly that you, Kirk, and I and all the rest of the bridge crew should remain together. He firmly believes this is one thing we should not allow Nero to destroy."

Spock stood still again, his back still to him, but then he nodded curtly and began to exit the door, he turned briefly before the doors would close and held a hand out to stop them. “I will speak with him. And I thank you for your candor, I will consider my next actions carefully, but I do not know what they will be and I will not have others dictate to me what they will be – not even my counterpart.”

****

Jim woke with a headache and he had a feeling it wasn’t the first time, but a nurse was there, apparently having woken him up and she gave him a dose of medicine that took the pain away. He thanked her and was informed he needed to stay in sickbay until Dr. McCoy released him and that he should rest in between neurological checks, but that all readings indicated he should be fine. Kirk gave her his most winsome smile and a fake yawn and closed his eyes. He waited precisely three minutes until he was sure he was alone and started to roll off the med bed.

“Stop it, you’ll only end up on the floor again,” McCoy’s mocking voice rang in his ears too loudly.

Jim rolled off the table anyway, felt a wave of vertigo and clung to the bed without falling, barely. “Didn’t,” he said petulantly, but he rolled back onto the bed with a groan anyway. 

McCoy stuck him in the neck with a hypospray – and just why did he jab Kirk with those sprays harder than the nurses did? Jim was about to make a wisecrack about his friend’s lousy bedside manner, but he felt a wonderful sense of calm and lack of vertigo come over him and he decided to forget the comment. The doctor giveth and he might taketh away… Jim closed his eyes and groaned with appreciation this time.

“I figured you’d be escaping by now. You’ll stay until I tell you otherwise - you had a nice hard knock on the wrong end of the bunk.”

Jim grunted, “I did? Who was it with? She’d better have been special for this kind of trouble,” Kirk said grumpily, opening only one eye to look at his friend. 

McCoy gaped at him. “Do you not remember-?”

Jim snickered impishly, “Just kidding. I remember – at least I _think_ I do. I am **really** hoping you’re going to tell me that I dreamed it all, though – you married that old Vulcan from the future?” Kirk’s last words were spoken with fresh skepticism. 

McCoy scowled and played with the instruments by Jim’s bed just to make his friend anxious he’d be jabbed with a new hypo.

In a quiet, but menacing voice he said, “I married a Vulcan who had a huge part in saving all our lives and that my own counterpart had quite a history with. We were bondmates. For a **LONG** time. And I fell in love with him. And I won’t hear another word about it until you’re ready to be supportive – if that’s even _possible_ for you,” McCoy dropped the hypo he’d been fiddling with back on the tray with a clatter and left sickbay. Jim opened his mouth behind him to call out, but the doctor was too fast for him.

 

****

Leonard didn’t need to defend himself _any more_ today. He’d had more than enough. He wanted to be back on New Vulcan and alone with Spock in that tiny room of his. He had thought he was back at home on the Enterprise, but between his best friend’s reaction and Spock’s visit – he was feeling mighty sorry for himself. He needed to get away from the both of them. And he couldn’t even comm his own Spock because the younger one was likely talking to him right now. Why the hell did everything have to be so mixed up? 

McCoy searched until he found one of the observation areas – it was thankfully empty and he sat in a chair and turned it away from the stars to stare at the blank wall behind the viewport. He didn’t want to go back to his quarters because he’d just drown his sorrows in alcohol and he was on duty soon anyway. He’d just stay here and maybe find some peace, but not by looking at the stars streaking past like other crewmembers usually did – he’d rather imagine himself back on New Vulcan – or maybe back at his father’s house in Georgia. He still had that land. He’d been exaggerating when he’d said he had only his bones left in the divorce, but only slightly. The house was worthless, rundown and in desperate need of fixing up and the land not in a particularly profitable spot. 

It was also **his** through his father’s will _after_ the divorce proceedings so he did have one place he could go back to one day. For now he didn’t want to return there until the memory of his father’s death – and his hand in it had faded. If that was even possible, McCoy sighed.

‘Boy, I’m just full of good memories and thoughts tonight,’ he thought bitterly to himself. Maybe he should seek out good company instead. Scotty should be with his engines, but not too busy since as far as McCoy knew he was only fussing around down there like McCoy did in his own Sickbay when not infested with offensive concussed captains. 

Maybe they could chat and just have a friendly glass of whiskey – Scotty’s confinement on that base had made him a bit of a chatterbox and he welcomed company, especially late at night as McCoy knew from past experience. And with that thought, he also stopped to pick up a few sandwiches to share with the man. Feeling more cheerful already, McCoy stepped onto the turbolift with almost a smile on his face. He shouldn’t let this situation get him down. He had to remember to focus on the positive. His own Spock would want him to do so.

It felt good to know there was someone out there in the universe that loved you and cared for you. And it was also good to know there were other friends on this ship. McCoy walked towards Engineering with a bit more lightness to his step and a smile that was beginning to grow as he heard Scotty alternately cursing and speaking encouragingly to his precious engines.

***

Jim lay awake, his head hurting, but not because of the concussion, but because he knew he’d hurt his friend. Damn, why did he have to be such an ass sometimes? Okay, most of the time. But not with McCoy – he and McCoy were best friends. Bones was the first real friend he’d ever made – and he’d been one of the most supportive ones, too. Hell, he’d never have gotten on the Enterprise without him. Bones had put his entire career on the line for him – he’d risked court martial. He listened to Jim whenever the captain needed to unload on him…why couldn’t he have handled this situation better? 

He needed to apologize to the man – it must’ve taken a huge leap of faith for his friend to open himself up to a marriage like that so soon after that bitch of a wife divorced him. If it had been a girl on the ship or one he’d met on shore leave – wouldn’t Jim have been happy for him? Hell, even a Vulcan woman? Well, he would have found that odd, but not impossible for Jim to accept easier. Was it the fact that he’d just learned Leonard was bi and married a man? Well, that was part of it. He’d had NO idea. Jim had been shocked, but he’d never had a problem with any other people who got together with their own gender and certainly not when humans got together with other species – IDIC, right? So what was it that bugged him so much – well, that was obvious - it was the fact that McCoy’s choice was the alternate and faaaaar older Spock that really just seemed **wrong**.

But had he really let Bones tell him about it? No, he’d been an ass. He needed to let the other man explain it better. Just because the counterpart Spock and McCoy were bondmates didn’t mean his McCoy should feel obligated or something.

Wow…the other universe had held a Spock and a McCoy that weren’t arguing all the time? Ones that slept together?? Bones might be bisexual, but was Spock as well? He knew Spock had been with Uhura, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding another sexual proclivity, too. Heck, was everyone bi on this ship? Jim’s head was really hurting now – was he…? He thought of Leonard or Spock naked – nope.   Well… No, no, definitely no. Or was he denying something?! Was he overcompensating?? Jeez, what did they have him on, anyway? He pushed the button on his bio bed and asked the nurse to list any possible side effects of his drugs. She offered to get Dr. McCoy for him if he was really concerned and he shook his head a little too hard, clutching it.

“No, no, he’s off-duty and he needs his rest, too. I was just wondering if it gave people weird thoughts or hallucinations or anything. I’m feeling kinda crappy right now,” he said pitifully.

The nurse bent over him and took his vitals by hand, something McCoy’s people did routinely, though they also consulted the biobed vitals. It was just an old fashioned and sometimes more accurate way as Bones often said. As the nurse felt his pulse and kept an eye on the chrono above his bed he admired her discrete cleavage and how her skirt rode up behind her – if he was in another biobed he’d get enjoy that view, too. Jim decided that he **definitely** preferred girls. And he’d just as soon keep it that way for now.

But for his friend, he’d be supportive. He’d seek Bones out as soon as the other man would let him and he’d listen and do his best to be a good friend like Leonard had always been for him. He wondered what the Spock of this ship and universe would think of all this, though? Had Bones told him yet?

Yet another reason to kick himself for chasing Bones out of sickbay – he desperately wanted to know if his First Officer knew just what was going on with the CMO and his counterpart. And just how the heck were they all going to deal with _this_? No one had ever covered this kind of thing in command classes or tests. He rather thought the Kobayashi Maru had been a walk in the park next to this situation.

 

****

Leonard returned to his quarters in a better frame of mind, got some much needed sleep and then reported for duty just as Jim was ready to be released. 

“Well, Captain, everything checks out fine and as long as you avoid slippery floors and hard corners you should be fine,” he said professionally. Almost completely normal. _Almost_. 

“Bones, you know – of all people – how much I hate to say the words…so I’m hoping they mean something to you…I’m sorry,” Jim said, his voice a little tight. 

McCoy looked up from his padd and nodded, his face relaxed finally. “I do. And I guess that means I have to accept your apology since it is so hard for YOU.” 

Jim sighed and grinned, glad that part was over with at least. “You realize we have a lot to talk about? And your marriage – is it legal with the Federation? I’ve got paperwork I’ll have to get to about this,” he grimaced.

McCoy glanced around the sickbay again, he’d made sure it was clear in the first place just in case his friend started getting talkative, but it was still clear. His nurses and the other doctor were busy with the tasks he’d given him.

“Yes, we can talk later…but the marriage is legal and I suppose you do have paperwork to fill out and so do I. But I know I can trust you to keep this as quiet as possible, right? Send the paperwork without your yeoman or anyone else? Especially bypassing Uhura’s station somehow? I don’t need another awkward discussion right now to add to the list.” the doctor’s tone was pleading and Kirk felt for his friend. He wouldn’t want his private life gossiped about like that either.

“Of course, Bones, you can count on me. But that talk – we’re having it SOON. I need to check in on the bridge and – wait – our Spock knows, too, then? Do you want him in on this conversation? How’d he take it? Did he-”

Bones held up a hand to stop the flow of overexcited chattering questions – his friend’s mind was always going at warp speed. The problem with having such a young, smart and energetic friend.

“I didn’t seek him out – he just knew in a way, and you’ll definitely want to hear the story. Truth is, he didn’t take it too well, either, not that I blame him at all. He’s going to talk to Sp- the other Spock and then…well, I don’t have any idea what happens then, but I’m not looking forward to that conversation, either. You and I can talk after duty hours and this time we’ll leave the alcohol out of it, okay?”

Jim smiled and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Definitely. And I want you to know that despite my earlier reaction…if you’re happy with your decision, then I’m happy for you, okay?”

Leonard was a little shocked and moved at his friend’s words. “Thank you, Jim. I **am** happy – happier than I’ve been in a long time.” For the first time since the whole business started, Jim saw a genuine smile on his friend’s face. But then his expression darkened, “Or I will be once both Spocks have talked and our First Officer gets his nose out of my business.”

 

****

Ambassador Spock had been expecting the comm, though it did come rather sooner than expected. He excused himself from his current tasks and took the comm in his room. He should not have been, but he could not help the instinctive surprise at the sight of his younger face.

After the traditional hand sign of greeting, he said politely, “Commander Spock, I trust you and the ship are doing well.”

The younger Spock gravely nodded, “Yes, of course. But that is not the matter in which I have need to speak with you as I’m sure you have anticipated.”

“I take it you mean the matter between Dr. McCoy and I?” he asked. “Normally I would state that it is strictly the business between myself and my T’hyla, however circumstances are far from the norm. If you have questions I am willing to answer them – to a point.”

The younger Spock raised his eyebrow at that, but seemed to accept that there were limits to which he could inquire. “Very well. I question your use of the term T’hyla first of all – you have known him for a very short amount of time and your bonding seems to have been one of necessity rather than choice.”

The older Spock was not above feeling a flare of irritation, but he dealt with it as he always handled his emotions and none of it showed on his face. “I have known the McCoy of this universe, but a short time, it is true…but I have known him in another time – and we shared much during the bonding – and he is as much my T’hyla here as he was then. You have not experienced the Pon Farr or the bonding. Thee cannot understand the true melding of minds and experiences – the twining of two halves in one. I resisted as much as I could – tried to spare this younger, unattached version of Leonard McCoy, but he is a man of great strength and a good deal of stubbornness and I believe that no matter what universe, I could not escape him for long. I hope one day you know such love.” The last words were spoken with a great deal of honesty.

The younger Spock stared at him silently, processing what the older version of himself had said. “How is it you came to be bonded with him the first time?” he finally asked.

Ambassador Spock looked away from the screen for a moment considering. “The failed bond, did Leonard tell you of it?”

“Very little – he said T’Pring refused me, and I in turn refused her, and that I somehow survived the challenge. But did I leave unbonded from Vulcan? How did I survive? McCoy?” he asked incredulously.

The older Spock nodded. “He was my friend, he went down with me to the ceremony, he helped me get through the challenge using a bit of trickery and then once aboard the Enterprise and heading away from Vulcan, I tried to deny the Pon Farr yet again, but it was useless. I still needed to bond. You will know by now how the doctor does not let matters rest easily. He came to my quarters. The rest I prefer not to speak of. It was not pity, though. There was no easy time afterwards, though, I tried to spare him the full meaning of a bond. It was only later that I slowly realized we could not be apart – it hurt both of us to try. That is partly why I do not fight it now. I know we are better together than not. And now that I have answered your questions – I hope you will answer one of mine: why did you break off your relationship with Uhura? From Leonard’s mind and my conversations with Jim you seem to have been well suited together and quite close.”

The younger Spock seemed taken aback by the question. He would not have spoken of it to anyone else and if his counterpart had not been so candid already. “The destruction of our world has affected me deeply. I could not give her the level of intimacy as much as she wished. I had already been too demonstrative during the incident with Nero. Afterwards, she thought she could take away the pain, but it is not that easy. I found myself distancing from her, using Vulcan techniques to deal with the emotional pain – these were not understandable to her. I was hurting her. I freed her to find someone more suitable. Circumstances in my life changed such that our relationship simply didn’t seem right any longer. I regret the pain I caused her – and continue to do so, but I do not believe there is a chance of reconciliation. I would prefer to focus on my work.”

The older Spock nodded, contemplating how he himself would feel in the other Spock’s situation, he felt it was only logical and he told his counterpart so. “But if I may offer one piece of advice – do not close yourself off to any possibility of finding love again – with Uhura or in another person. It is a vastly rewarding _and_ healing experience. Give yourself time, but do not wait too long…you will eventually face the Pon Farr yourself one day, after all.”

The younger Spock nodded with resignation. “So I know now. I do not know how I will ever do so, though. I do not wish another arranged bonding and I agree with your decision to not pollute what is left of our Vulcan race – times have changed that situation.”

The older Spock observed him quietly for a moment. “That was not my only concern – I felt it wrong as I was not of this universe as well…and also, I did not desire to ever bond again. Leonard was my T’hyla – to take another, even out of biological necessity would have felt wrong. But I felt and still do feel, he would approve of the resulting solution.”

Spock’s left eyebrow rose, he could not contemplate such a bond with another being – yet here was proof that it might be possible. Or it might not – he still believed that the bond had been made impetuously and with reckless disregard of the possible consequences. True, he would not wish to see his counterpart dead as he’d been obviously intent on committing suicide rather than seek another way to safeguard his life and McCoy’s actions on the shuttle had been logical to sustain them until they could reach New Vulcan. Still, he could not shake the feeling that the human, McCoy, under the influence of a very intense mindmeld – and having never experienced a meld in the first place, had not been in his right mind when the full bonding ceremony had taken place. He said as much to his counterpart.

“I shared your concerns. I did not consent to the full bonding ceremony until I had him checked out by the most senior Vulcan healer we have left. She assured us that he had a most resilient mind and had assimilated the meld as well as any human could be expected to – and that his emotions and motives were his own and not an echo of the counterpart’s memories and desires left within my katra.”

Spock’s other eyebrow raised, “Such a bonding – one with merged vestiges of another’s katra has only been rumored of in Vulcan folklore – and then it would only be possible with the Vulcan that had held another’s Katra.”

The older Spock held his fingertips up to his lips, palms facing each other as he looked back at his younger self. It was so difficult to know how much information to impart – who knew what would happen in this universe and how much he himself was affecting it. Was it not already affected far too much by Nero’s actions and his own interference that he could impart still more knowledge of the other universe?   Spock decided since this universe’s McCoy had all of his secrets already, it was only fair to share it with this Spock. But he would only go so far.

“McCoy was my T’hyla for many years…I entrusted my Katra with him in a matter of great urgency I regret I did not prepare him for such a possibility beforehand – I died shortly thereafter, which I did not regret as it saved many lives, including my T’hyla. My body rejuvenated under rather improbable circumstances – and Jim, Uhura, Scotty, Chekov, Sulu and McCoy – my friends. They all risked everything – not just their careers, but also their lives, in saving mine. My Katra was reunited with my body, but we still retained pieces of our katras – our souls – whatever either of our cultures wish to call it. I still carry a small piece of him, – of my universe’s McCoy within me – I heard his voice – just the once – very recently, at first I thought it was the Pon Farr, but I do not believe that anymore. I realize how this sounds, but…it is what it is…

“And bonding with McCoy in this universe, he and I have no regrets – except only the inevitable affect on you and your life decisions. I sincerely hope you do not decide to leave the Enterprise, but I fully acknowledge it is YOUR decision and no one else’s. I can only hope _._ And I now must ask a favor from you, which you are under no obligation of fulfilling, of course.”

The younger Spock was still reeling with all this information – he would need much time to meditate on all of this. But still he nodded solemnly for the other Spock to ask his favor.

“Watch over my T’hyla…if you leave the Enterprise I realize this will be more difficult, but even then, within whatever capacity you can…as a Starfleet officer you will be privy to information I will not be – even though I am still a Federation Ambassador and I have certain rights as his spouse…he may need help only you can provide. Will you do this for me?”

Spock looked once more at the older visage, it showed no emotion unless one knew the smallest of signs only he, as a Vulcan and the owner of the same face, if much less lined, would notice – and nodded, holding his hands in the traditional Vulcan salute.

Only this time he spoke the words “I swear on the blood and the katras our ancestors, I will look after the one you call T’hyla and I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. I will look after him as if he were my own.” It was the most ancient of vows and not one taken lightly. He took a slightly deeper breath than normal and continued,   “I will remain on the Enterprise. It is my own wish and it will be the most efficient way to fulfill my vow. I still wish to meet with you again in person, though. After this mission I believe I can arrange a meeting between the two of us away from New Vulcan. May I make what arrangements I can and then forward them to you for your approval?”

The older Spock nodded and there seemed an easing of tension in his shoulders, one neither Spock had noticed until that moment. “Yes, I will free my schedule as soon as it is convenient for you. I do believe our next meeting will be an interesting one. Ambassador Spock out,” he closed the secured channel without waiting for a reply. 

The younger Spock sat staring at the screen for .6 minutes before turning in his chair and getting up to report to duty early. He found he was not ready to meditate on the subject. Work would be more calming at the moment. And he must complete a few of his more sensitive experiments early if he was to request time off. He made a mental note to ask the Captain for leave as soon as it was possible to speak with him privately.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The next chapter takes a very dark turn - violence and torture. Just a warning.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains torture. Reader Discretion is advised.
> 
> (I did warn readers before that this sequel is far more dark than the previous story. This chapter and the next one are very dark. If torture, non-con and violence bothers you, please don't read any further.)

 

The whip hit McCoy’s back again and the newly electrified ends caused his body to convulse and finally a keening cry was forced past his lips – it didn’t sound like a sound he would produce at all. It sounded rather funny come to think of it and he decided to laugh, shaky as it sounded, just to piss off the bastard behind the weapon. He doubted it had the intended effect of bravado that he was going for – actually it sounded a bit like hysteria.

His nerve endings fired off and his body continued to convulse for a few minutes, but he did manage to maintain his bladder through sheer force of will. One more and he’d lose it and he really didn’t need to do that in front of his captors. He’d held up so far without too much loss of dignity, he thought, considering the level of skill his tormentors had. He’d bitten his lips bloody and he’d bitten his tongue and had had to spit out the blood or be forced to swallow it. 

Overall, he’d bore up as well as could be expected, but this new level was a bit too much to bear. The wall in front of him was a mirror, and he’d kept his eyes down through most of the torture – not wanting to witness his own wounds, bad enough to feel them. And the chances were someone was simply watching behind it – god knows who. What with the long robes, gloves and hoods that covered every inch, he wasn’t sure what species they were. They’d taken his translator immediately and hissed in an unfamiliar language ever since. He’d given his name, rank and number as drilled into him at the Academy and nothing else so it was just as well. He’d be damned if he’d give any information on his friends, ship, Starfleet or the Federation so it was pointless to wish he knew what they were saying, he supposed. He had a feeling his torture was just for show or possibly for fun. An experiment, maybe? Whatever they were, they were a sadistic species he hoped never to meet again.

He worried about Jim and Spock – the thoughts of what they might be going through right now hurt more than the physical torture. The three of them had been on the Galileo heading back to the rendezvous point with the Enterprise after an away mission when they’d been shot down by a ship of unknown origin suddenly appearing from behind a small planet. McCoy grimaced as he remembered the two other crewmen who’d died on impact when they’d crash landed on the very same class M planet. He’d been knocked unconscious along with Jim and Spock. He’d woken up first, tried to save the other two crew members; hoping he could revive at least one. He remembered the beautiful young girl with chestnut hair who he’d admired simply for her classic features. They’d been pulverized as she’d gone head first into a bulkhead, her hair turned dark red with sticky blood. The other young crewmember had been a security fellow who McCoy had never met before, either, but he’d seemed a nice enough fellow. He regretted their loss, but terrible still had been to see Jim and Spock lying still and twisted in their seats. Luckily they’d both woken shortly after he’d crawled his way through the wreckage to them. Unluckily they’d suddenly been joined by the robed aliens.

They’d dragged them from the wreckage, vaporized the two dead bodies, McCoy jerking in his captors’ arms uselessly at the outrage. Then they’d been transported to the ship and just as quickly separated.

He’d been scanned by one of them, while another held him in place, the equipment was unfamiliar looking, but most likely similar to his medical tricorder. He’d then been taken to this torture chamber and the fun had begun.

If only he knew where Jim and Spock were – if they’d been injured in the crash internally, if they were being tortured…if they were dead. This last thought left him feeling hollow and hopeless. No, he couldn’t think that – if he did, he’d break. And he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t allow their captors the satisfaction. He could only hope the Enterprise would find them – and soon. Or that Kirk and Spock would manage one of their impossible and miraculous escapes. Hell, if they could handle Nero, they could handle these cowardly assholes, couldn’t they?

The whip hit again, this time the electric charge set higher, he shrieked and lost control of his bladder. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself to handle the embarrassment with the detachment of a doctor. If anyone else had done so – he would not blame them one bit. It didn’t make him any less of a man. He opened his eyes, looked into the mirror and likely more of an audience and said as cockily as his shaky voice would allow him, “Is that really the best you can do?” 

No one had ever said Leonard McCoy’s mouth would not get him into deeper trouble if he could help it.

 

*** 

Jim watched the torture of his best friend and ground his nails into the palms of his hands. He was helpless – bound and gagged and forced to watch as a man whose entire life was devoted to healing others was tortured for no reason. The whip cracked for the first time with electricity crackling and he heard his friend finally cry out involuntarily – a cry that went straight to Jim’s heart, the laughter afterwards let Jim know just how badly he was hurting, but trying not to let on. Jim willed him to hold on just a little longer…

Spock, similarly situated next to him watched with a steely dispassionate mask on his face, yet his eyes seemed to drink in every detail. Jim had watched for a flicker of emotion, but saw none. He still wasn’t sure if he envied his First Officer’s control at times like this or if he wished for just one sign of his own anger shared. Either way he was emulating Spock as best he could, not reacting visibly as much as possible, but it was hard, his impulsive nature made him want to yell at them to stop and take him instead. Yet he had a feeling that even if he could have such an action likely would make matters worse for Bones. 

Jim took as subtle of a calming breath as he could and reminded himself that he was Captain and like it or not – he must watch a member of his crew suffer until an opportunity presented itself in which he could save him. He couldn’t see the faces of the two guards on either side of the room with them, but he could feel their eyes focused on their reactions. He would not crack. How could he when Bones wasn’t?

The second whip crack was obviously at a higher setting and both Jim and Spock noticed McCoy’s loss in bodily functions, but neither judged him at all. Jim felt only sympathy at the embarrassment his friend must feel on top of the pain. ‘Let it stop now, please…he’s been through enough – what more can you want?’ he asked silently.

When he heard McCoy’s comment “Is that really the best you can do?” he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile with pride or shake the man for provoking the torturers. Damn the man! He’d always known McCoy was tougher than he looked or acted. After all the man had a fear of flying and transporters and yet he’d joined Starfleet.

This wisecrack was rewarded with blows to the torso and the head, then the whip cracked again, stronger still.   Finally McCoy mercifully passed out. For a moment Jim worried they’d wake him for another round, but apparently they’d judged it enough and McCoy was let down from the hook that had held him up and he was dragged out of sight.

Several moments passed, Jim continued to breathe calm measured breaths in time with Spock’s until the door banged open to their room. A hooded alien swept in and unceremoniously hauled Kirk to his feet and herded him roughly out the door and into the torture chamber. He was tied in the same spot McCoy had been in and the gag was removed – the better to hear him beg, he supposed. Not that they’d get the pleasure anymore than they’d gotten from McCoy. But knowing that Spock was watching whilst it seemed McCoy had had no idea who was in his audience probably made this just a little tougher for him to take. He would feel Spock’s judging eyes on him as well as their captors. Great.

 

****

The remnants of the Galileo were examined thoroughly by the away team led by Mr. Scott with Chekov eagerly chattering at his side with his tricorder. There were traces of two remains in the shuttle, two out of five, but which two? Scotty hated the thought of any of their crew dead, but he desperately hoped it wasn’t the Captain – ever since their adventurous travel to the Enterprise before they’d been formerly assigned to it he’d had a great deal of respect for the man. And as a Captain he’d earned even greater respect for him. As for the doctor, he and McCoy got along just fine indeed – more than just a drinking buddy. McCoy was a good listener, but even better he was fun to argue with. If there was one thing McCoy was good at – it was having an opinion. It was good to have someone that could keep up the other side of a good row – Keenser just stared back at him most times. It was infuriating!

And Spock was a fine officer, indeed, such an asset to the ship. But could he wish the two dead were the younger crewmembers he didn’t know as well? It hurt his sentimental heart, but he was in charge and this was no time for it. He had Chekov do his best to get whatever DNA readings might be left in the traces of the two burnt scorched areas that marked the final resting places of the dead and then they completed their investigation of the smashed shuttle and beamed back up to sort through all the information they had gathered. 

Scotty wished desperately the science officer in charge was Mr. Spock, but they must make do without him. Uhura reported odd traces of communication that might be an unknown language and Scotty leaned over her consol to hear it himself. He caught a whiff of her sweet, but subtle perfume and found himself slightly distracted. Uhura glanced up questioningly and he realized he’d missed something. “Err, what was that again, lassie?” Focus, Scotty, the ship’s in your hands and she and Mr. Spock might’ve broken up, but no one wanted to get in the way of _that_ Vulcan if he decided to mind any flirtation with his ex. 

Uhura was utterly focused on the language: it seemed reptilian almost, but all scans of similar based life-form languages had not matched and it was maddening to think she was of such little help. Mr. Scott’s closeness only reminded her of her last angry words at Spock, before she’d resolved to act as if nothing had ever happened between them. She regretted them. She wished she’d tried just a little harder to hold onto him, but Spock had been clear in his own wishes. Still, if she never saw his face again… She fiddled with her dials and tried again to catch any traces of similar verbal communication or reports by others of this particular language. She had to help find them. She didn’t dare think of the scorched remains found in the shuttle.

 

***

Jim was finally released and dragged out of the torture chamber. His had been an assortment of other techniques, no electric whip for some reason. There’d been some memorable electrodes to certain areas of his anatomy, though. The embarrassment of knowing Spock watched was probably part of the torture – messing with his head at the same time, if the aliens knew anything of human psychology. But what they didn’t know was Jim was a master at blacking out bad memories and he’d learned at a young age to take pain for no reason; so while he’d had to react involuntarily to the electric charges just as McCoy had, he doubted it had disturbed him as much as it likely did to Bones. Perhaps Leonard didn’t need to know that his friends had witnessed the torture at all. He’d try to discretely ask Spock to not mention it. But then there would be reports – and as CMO they’d cross his desk…well, he didn’t need to know until then, until they’d been rescued or they’d escaped and healed and were away from the bastards who’d killed two of his crew and tortured the rest of them for seemingly no reason.

He was led to a room with a grate in the floor and before his muddled head could fathom what was about to happen ice cold water rained down from above. He shouted once and then began to shiver, but he also took the opportunity to wipe off what blood and other fluids he could before the water shut off. He was brusquely handed nondescript gray clothing – a shirt and pants, which he put on over his wet body and he was then shuffled out of the room. If his hands hadn’t been bound and he hadn’t been so weak he would have tried to fight, but he figured it was useless at this point, better to wait until he recovered slightly and then try to fight them off. He was led into a transporter room – the platform was alien in design, yet similar enough to recognize and they were beamed into a room with no door or windows and a vent far out of reach. He saw a figure huddled in the corner of the room, Bones!

The captors released him and with a hiss, transported away. He quickly shuffled over to his friend who was similarly clothed. “Bones, are you okay?”

McCoy looked up with glassy eyes then blinked and they quickly turned watery, though he knew his friend would fight off the tears. “I thought you were both maybe dead…where’s Spock?” he glanced behind Kirk, but saw the empty room behind him.

“I assume he’s where we were before. Hopefully he’ll be along soon. Are you okay?” Jim worried he’d give away what he knew, but he had to know.

McCoy slowly sat up, groaning softly. “Just stiff, what did they do to you? Let me see. He lifted his bound hands and pushed Kirk’s shirt up without another word. Jim normally would have protested, but decided to allow it. “I’m fine – just some cuts and bruises…nothing you can’t fix later. And my nose, of course,” obviously indicating the throbbing mess on his face. He was used to broken noses, but that never stopped them from hurting so damn much. He swallowed painfully, but remained nonchalant. “What about you?”

McCoy ignored the question, he put his head on Kirk’s chest, his hair tickling Jim as he pressed his ear to different places, first his heart, then his lungs. “Take a deep breath through your mouth,” he ordered. 

Jim obligingly tried, but then let out a grunt and admitted, “Okay, and maybe a cracked rib or two – nothing new. All those bar fights had to be good for something, right?”

Bones snorted and brought his bound hands up to his friend’s face, “Ready for me to fix it the old fashioned way?”

Jim winced at the idea, but nodded and closed his eyes, “Get it over with.”

*Crunch*

Jim howled in pain as he hadn’t even when it had been broken. _Damn_ it hurt…he spat blood and wiped at the trickle of blood and snot coming from his now really throbbing nose. Leonard batted his hand and pinched the nose despite Jim’s protests and had him tip his head back. “Don’t be a baby you’ve broken it more times than you can count, what’s one more?” 

Jim desperately wanted to kick his friend right that minute, usually if the break was this bad after one of his barroom brawls he’d get a nice pretty nurse at the local med unit down in Iowa and she’d set it without any pain – and they had good meds.

Leonard inspected his handy work once Jim clotted enough and then gestured with his head for Kirk to come closer, “You’re still damp and it is fucking cold in here, we need to conserve body heat. When Spock comes in we need to do the same for him, his species needs a hotter climate. You know how he is always complaining how the Enterprise is chilly? He’s gonna love this room." 

Jim sat pressed against his friend and decided to play along with Bones ignoring his own health for now. It was quite true; the room was damned chilly now that he had the time to notice it, and especially so after that shower. Kirk shivered and McCoy put his two arms bound at the wrists around him like a hug. Jim would have protested this intimacy forcefully, but he saw the pain in McCoy’s eyes that the physical movement had cost him and perhaps even mentally. Maybe it would be all right to allow it, for now. As Jim felt the warmth through their shirts begin to equalize their temperatures and he found his shivering lessen, he decided it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. But best to stop soon before the captors returned.

 

***

Scotty leaned excitedly forward in the command chair, a good part of him wishing he was down with his Engines trying to get just a bit more speed out of them, but he knew his team was doing their best and his duty was up here on the Bridge. Still his fingers itched to do ‘something’ – even Sulu and Chekov got to fiddle with their boards. It must drive Kirk _mad_ not to have something of his own to do; maybe that was why the man paced from station to station so much – must be also why he enjoyed McCoy’s presence on the Bridge – at least it gave him someone to talk to who wasn’t busy with their work.

Scotty reflected for a moment on all his time spent starved for human interaction and some adventure on that icy planet only months ago. He’d been so glad to be a part in that rescue mission and honored with his new position as Chief Engineer of the Enterprise – something _positively_ _unthinkable_ until Jim Kirk and that old Vulcan from the future had shown up at his doorstep with their improbable tale. He was desperately glad how his life had turned around so suddenly, but he surely hadn’t foreseen just how making such great new friends and going off on daring adventures like this one could be so scary and frustrating all at once. It would take some getting used to, he supposed.

They were onto some warp traces Sulu had detected from an unknown ship and were following as fast as they dared while still keeping an eye out for a trap. They could be heading right into an ambush or every moment of caution they took could be costing their crewmembers their lives. It was not the sort of thoughts Scotty liked to deal with. He missed the simplicity of Engineering and he’d be glad to give it up to the Captain the moment he had them back. By now they knew that it was not Kirk, Mr. Spock or McCoy amidst the scorched marks of the shuttle, sickbay had informed them of this very quickly and he was relieved. They would mourn the poor lass and lad later – a proper wake to anyone that wanted to join in. He had a bottle tucked away that would do nicely. It would be Kirk’s job to write up the necessary paperwork and standard letter forms to their families.

But for now, all energy was spent on finding the, hopefully, still alive members of their crew. They just had to do it before it was too late.

 

****

McCoy cradled Kirk’s head on his shoulder and rolled his eyes as his friend snored loudly through his open mouth, his blocked up nose making the sound horrendous. But at least it kept him awake. They were seated, backs to the cold wall with McCoy’s arms still around his friend. His left arm was completely numb from Kirk’s weight, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake the man up. Especially if Jim was going to get chatty again. Besides, the cold wall, while hard and uncomfortable, numbed the electric burns on his back a little. He was worried what was taking so long for Spock to arrive. Surely neither McCoy nor Kirk’s sessions had taken this long. 

Then, as if divining his thoughts, the sound of the transport announced the arrival as three forms shimmered into place. Spock was slung between the two of them, unconscious, or at least it seemed so. McCoy roughly jerked his arms off of Jim as the man was waking; Leonard struggled to his feet with difficulty and tried to catch Spock as the captors dumped the Vulcan on the floor unceremoniously. 

He failed to catch him completely, but saved Spock’s head from hitting the concrete. Seeing huge turquoise splotches on the blue uniform he turned to the captors before they disappeared and leapt at them, unthinkingly. “What the fuck did you do to them, you bastards?! What is it you want?! Damn you! I need medical supplies, this man needs medical attention! What kind of sadistic bastards are you-” he was ranting and starting to not make any sense as Jim jerked McCoy back from the aliens who had at first been bemused at his tirade, but then stepped menacingly forward. 

One alien reached a hand out as if to hit McCoy and Jim jerked his friend behind him. The alien stopped in mid gesture and a hissing chuckle could be heard from within their deep dark hoods. Instead of hitting them, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small device, apparently a translator. “How touching humans. Your pet Vulcan was quite an interesting subject. He proved _entertaining_. We will allow you some time to rest and tend to him as you wish. I regret to inform you that we have no medical supplies on board, even should we wish to supply them to you so you’ll have to make do for now.” 

Jim stepped slightly closer, “You said you’d allow us time to rest and tend to our friend. Then what? I demand to know under what authority you have abducted us and treated us so.” he said defiantly, his commanding presence only slightly marred by his nasally stuffed up tone. 

The alien chuckled again, “Such foul manners, I shouldn’t really be surprised, you humans are known for your arrogance…you are in the position to demand nothing. You are our _guests_ for now – do not push the boundaries of our hospitality.” The alien’s voice sounded menacing and arrogant. It grated on McCoy’s nerves and, he knew, Kirk’s.

The aliens then transported away without another word and McCoy dropped to his knees again at Spock’s side. The Vulcan was breathing regularly, if anything, he seemed in a trance, for a moment he thought it might be a healing trance, the kind he’d learned about on New Vulcan, but it seemed lighter. McCoy pushed the blue and black uniform tops up and surveyed the damage with dismay – Spock’s torture had consisted of heavy blows that were already turning blackish green, possible internal bleeding, and there were many cuts all over the torso, and some trailed into his pants area, yet the uniform was intact, no rips visible so they must have stripped him. McCoy, leant forward first to listen to his breathing and heart before reluctantly unfastening the Vulcan’s uniform pants. He knew it was a gross violation of privacy for the man, but he needed to assess the damage – 

Strong hands suddenly gripped his wrists tightly. Spock’s eyes fluttered open and he looked dazed, but then recognized McCoy as the one touching him. “Don’t.”

Jim stood well back, providing them as much privacy as possible, but he spoke up. “Mr. Spock, let the doctor examine you, that’s an order.”

Spock refused to let go of McCoy’s hands for several moments, but then awkwardly fumbled with the fasteners himself, opening them to show the ends of the wounds. “They are the same on the legs – no worse than what you see now – all clotting as they should. Now please remove your hands and allow me my privacy,” he said quietly but firmly. 

“There’s no privacy between a doctor and his patient, but I’ll take your word on the legs if you’ll tell me everything they did to you in detail. Where you injected or forced to imbibe anything?”

Spock seemed reluctant to answer, but then admitted they’d given him a hypospray of something after roughly one and a half hours into the session. “I did not recognize the substance, but it created a distorted sense of time and awareness of my surroundings. I believe I was given it because I was not responding to their satisfaction.”

McCoy gently examined the bruises and tried his best to feel his way around the injuries without making them worse. “They said you were entertaining. They found you ‘interesting.’ 

“There is a Vulcan technique to distance oneself from pain and I believe they found that frustrating rather than interesting…their hypospray…I do not remember exactly what happened afterwards except I could not maintain the meditative state any longer and the pain seemed magnified. I suppose that was the entertainment portion of their ‘session.” Spock kept his eyes on the ceiling during his recitation in monotone.

“Do you still feel the effects of the drug?” McCoy kept his voice clinical and calm. 

“It is subsiding.” Spock’s hair was wet, they’d given him a shower, but then put his uniform back on rather than the drab prison-like garb Kirk and McCoy wore. An odd detail Leonard filed away. It could mean that they’d run out of the clothes. Maybe they weren’t set up for mass interrogations. They weren’t asking questions, they just seemed to be torturing the three survivors for the fun of it. Experimenting, perhaps. Whatever the cause, he could not help Spock any further at the moment, the Vulcan was right, he was clotting normally and he seemed stable. Leonard tugged on Spock to sit up with him against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Spock asked him, resisting weakly.

“Only the same thing I did for Jim, sharing warmth. Jim, get over here, get on his other side, between the three of us we should be okay - for now.”

Kirk reluctantly took one side of Spock while McCoy took the other, neither dared put their arms around the Vulcan, but pressed against him to spread the warmth. Eventually Jim fell asleep again, snoring and Spock looked over at Leonard in sufferance.

“Give him a break, they smashed his nose,” Leonard whispered, an almost grin on his face.

Spock raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “I know, I witnessed it. He took it better than most humans would, but then he has some past experience with physical violence.”

McCoy thought on his words. “You witnessed it? Did you see…” he couldn’t finish, the humiliation was too great. 

Spock inclined his head, “You were surprisingly strong. You refused to break and you responded much as Kirk did, daring them to do more. A rather ill-advised mode of conduct, I might note.” 

Leonard turned his face away at the realization that likely both friends saw the whole scene. But then he turned back just as quickly, “You’re one to talk, your meditation technique only led them to drug you and make your wounds worse,” he said with only half-hearted satisfaction.

Spock nodded at the logic of this, “In other situations it has proved useful, but in this case our captors were determined for reactions. I believe from my observations of their ill-kept ship and lack of supplies that they are far from home and on a long running mission or unable to return to their home world. I believe we may have only stumbled into the path of bored sadists. They are unpredictable in what behavior they will exhibit next.” 

Leonard was pleased that he’d been along the same track of mind as Spock for once. But the idea of unpredictable bored aliens that enjoyed torture did not ease his mind.

 

***

The captors listened to the human and Vulcan speak and their anger flared at their motives and lack of rank amongst their own people was so blatantly obvious even to these ignorant aliens.

Their robes lay in a heap behind their chairs of their viewing post of the small chamber. Smoothing back his black hair Gul Dinian always kept his hair impeccable and the hood had mussed it slightly. He hated the dratted thing. If it weren’t for the fact that they had strict orders not to reveal their identities to any aliens in the area he would never touch the dreadful garment.

Beside him Glinn Jakar repressed his annoyance at his superior’s vanity. He should not be stuck here with this stupid man. It was only Dinian’s family that had bought his title at all and even his family’s name could not save him from dishonoring it enough to banish him to this horrible assignment, Glinn Jakar and his two other fellow crewmembers were being punished for Dinian’s stupidity. Stuck on this subpar ship they’d been sent to this quadrant several years ago to _unobtrusively_ observe various Federation outposts and write up reports that might never be read. 

It was only because of Gul Dinian’s boredom that he’d broken protocol and decided to grab the Starfleet shuttle in the first place. Their ‘experiments’ were pointless. They were not even interrogating them efficiently. It seemed the Gul was interested only in his own perverted pleasure in inflicting harm on the aliens they’d been sent only to observe and report on for now. It wasn’t as if Glinn Jakar were unused to interrogations or torture for information, but this entire episode was not only a waste of resources, but dangerous if their vessel, if their very _species_ were detected by Starfleet as well.

If this leaked out on Cardassia Prime this entire episode might be the final mistake of the Gul’s career and even his life. Jakar would gladly turn the man in if it would not more than likely take the Glinn and the rest of the crew along with him in dishonor and death. The Cardassian wondered, not for the first time, if he should arrange for an _accident_ to befall his superior. It wouldn’t be too hard. Dinian was too arrogant and assured of his family’s name to assume anyone would plot against him. Still, he was the Gul and Jakar decided to bide his time for now.

Gul Dinian stared at the three huddled aliens and grew bored once more. ‘He wanted **more** – more excitement – more _fear_ and _reactions_ from the aliens. They had barely scratched the surface of the ideas he was obsessing over in his mind right now. The Vulcan’s ability to maintain his meditative state had been broken with a simple drug compound the Gul had a small stash of – he could use that again. Or the humans…the one they called Captain actually bored him, he was too used to physical torture and too predictable. But the other, he had held up well and never broken, despite the fact that they had known he was simply a healer. And then at the sight of the Vulcan harmed he’d reacted **quite** emotionally. Now _that_ had been fun to watch.

Hmmm...perhaps the two together would make an interesting pair. Oh, and what could be more fun than his favorite pastime? Only he wouldn’t do it himself, he’d give the Vulcan another drug he had available and watch him hurt the healer himself.

The pain, the humiliation and the ultimate betrayal! Oh to watch the emotional chaos that resulted from that. And how might the third one act once he knew? Oooooh, this was going to be fun, the Gul thought feverishly as he chortled to himself and slapped his second on the back as if he’d shared all his thoughts with him already. Glinn Jakar was far too proud and obsessed with _duty_. He just needed to see the full potential of the Gul’s ideas come to fruition – then maybe he’d have Jakar’s slightly disproving look wiped off his face.

“I’ve got an idea!” he exclaimed. 

Glinn Jakar watched him carefully, but nodded in obedience as he’d been trained. “Yes, sir. May I ask what it is?”

 

***

The Enterprise was closing in on the trail; they felt they were getting very close indeed to the alien ship that might have their crewmembers aboard. The ship must be in less than optimal performance as the signature was growing stronger and easier to detect. Scotty shook his head at their shoddy maintenance, but for now, he was quite glad that someone wasn’t as diligent as he was in caring for their ship. Another hour maybe and they’d find the ship. Now if only their weapons and shields were as badly cared for as their engines.

 ***

Jim had woken with a snort to find Spock watching him with vague disapproval. Apparently his captain had drooled just a tiny bit on his first officer’s shirt. Whoops. Before he could finish clearing his throat he heard the telltale sound of someone transporting in.

The three men slowly stood as three captors materialized in their cell again. They tried to hide the pain and stiffness, even knowing it was rather useless to bother – their captors knew full well the injuries they’d inflicted and left untreated. Jim took a step in front of his men and faced them head on. The damn robes and cowardice of their hiding behind them irritated him, but he held his temper in check and waited for the others to make the first move.

The one that had addressed them before slipped the translator out again. “Stand aside; it is the other two we’ve come for.” 

Jim shook his head. “I’m their superior – you’ll talk to me.”

The alien laughed, it sounded unhinged even to alien ears, “Oh, there’ll be no need for talking…but you can come along, too, if you wish…yes, perhaps you’d like to watch this, too. Why waste the entertainment?” he asked as if being generous. With that he hissed a command and the three were transported back to the torture cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter gets even darker. FYI.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is far darker than the previous one. There is non-con here. I'm such a coward I delayed posting this chapter all this time worried it would upset readers, but enough is enough. I will post the next and final chapter very soon.

***

Kirk fought as best he could and he could see his Bones and Spock try as well, but both were hit hard on the head and then injected with hyposprays while stunned. Jim was easily subdued and swung up on a hook that held his arms taut and painfully above his head; his toes barely touched the floor. Helplessly he watched as his friends were left on the floor of the cell, their movements to stand up sluggish and they seemed confused as to where they were and what was happening.

 

The robed alien pulled out another hypospray and jabbed it into Spock’s neck with a hissing sibilant laugh that almost seemed gleeful. He held Spock’s head up, the Vulcan made an attempt to swat the hand away, but it seemed like he couldn’t see clearly enough to connect. The alien seemed to be waiting for some effect – something in the eyes. Slowly Spock’s spine straightened and from his point of view Kirk saw something odd: passion. Even during his ferocious beating of Jim when he’d provoked him about his mother there had been a coldness in his eyes. Now…now he saw something very different. The alien turned to look at Jim, as if to make extra sure the Captain saw it, too.

 

“Another few minutes and I doubt I’d want to be in this room if I were you – who knows how long the effects will last or their ultimate outcome, but you wanted to watch,” the alien laughed. He transported away, but Jim knew he was on the other side of the mirror, watching the havoc he had just unleashed.

 

And it was just that. McCoy swayed and his eyes were glassy, Spock had a glassy look to his eye, too, but there was that something more…that dangerous gleam. Jim realized that the aliens probably intended Spock to attack McCoy – and possibly Kirk; he decided to try and distract the Vulcan from his drugged friend.

 

“Spock? Spock, look at me, that’s an order,” he said in his most commanding voice. Spock turned and looked at Kirk as if just noticing him in the room.

 

“Do not tell me what to do.” It was said quietly, but with menace so distinct it scared Jim.

 

He knew firsthand how strong Spock was and how quickly he could strike. His attack on the bridge during the Nero debacle was still fresh on his mind. Still, he would much rather Spock strike him than McCoy. Jim glanced quickly at Bones to see if he was okay, it was a mistake, Spock’s attention was also turned to the doctor by his gaze.

 

‘Shit,’ Kirk thought, ‘should’ve maintained eye contact. “Spock!” He tried again, “Spock fight whatever they’ve given you and come help me off this damn hook.”

 

Spock ignored him, his back to him, but from the hunched look of his shoulders it was obvious he was focused wholly on the dazed man before him. Bones, for that matter, didn’t look scared. He was so out of it he was blinking and squinting, it seemed like he didn’t know what was going on at all. Jim prayed if something did happen, his friend wouldn’t remember it, if he survived it at all. ‘God, I have to stop this!’

 

“Spock!” he yelled again. Also hoping Bones would get a hint and back away without him having to say it.

 

The Vulcan continued to ignore him, but took one step closer to the swaying human in front of him.

 

“Spock?” McCoy asked in a vague, quiet voice. He blinked again and seemed to finally see him. “Are you all right?” he asked, typically _Dr_. McCoy. Jim struggled for purchase to free his hands, tried pulling and twisting, knowing something awful was about to happen…

 

***

 

Gul Dinian’s eyes were riveted to the scene before him, his anticipation great. Jakar kept glancing at him as unobtrusively as he could. The other crewman behind him was Delmak, a childhood friend of Jakar’s and one he felt he could possibly rely on. He’d dropped a hint or two over a glass of Kanar and reminiscing of old favorite spots on Cardassia Prime. He’d hoped the man understood that if the Gul seemed as unhinged to him as he did to Jakar he should be replaced. With Jakar as head he would regain their lost honor by obtaining _useful_ information for their superiors, thereby possibly allowing them to return home.

 

He had a feeling Delmak was of a similar mind now, but was waiting for further evidence to uphold their actions should they face a tribunal back home later. All of the Gul’s erratic behavior, waste of resources and movements were being carefully recorded. Still, they must wait. This final scene the Gul so looked forward to would likely be his last.

 

‘Let him enjoy it,’ Jakar thought with growing purpose and ambition. He would soon be captain of a better ship than this one if he could take down a Gul from such a family. But then he’d have to watch his back. Dinian’s family might be relieved to be rid of their embarrassment of a relative or they might retaliate just to show their power was undiminished. He’d worry about that later, though.

 

He returned his attention to the ‘ _experiment’_ as the Gul put it. The Vulcan had been injected with the same drug that had caused his mental faculties to be damaged enough to lose control of his impulses. Dinian had given him a powerful aphrodisiac on top of that. Though the aphrodisiac worked on many species near their own domain, it had yet to be tested on humans or Vulcans. Jakar had to admit he _was_ curious of the reaction, even if it had no real practical application for the Cardassia’s plans in any section of the Alpha quadrant.

 

He watched as the healer approached the Vulcan with stumbling steps, the human had the first drug, too, but not the aphrodisiac, Dinian didn’t want the human to enjoy what he hoped would happen next, only for the human to be unable to fight back. The Vulcan stilled as the human approached. Jakar found himself leaning forward slightly despite himself…it _had_ been a rather boring mission after all. Might as well enjoy the entertainment, as Dinian kept saying.

 

***

 

“Spock?” McCoy asked again. He was certain it was Spock, his vision was a little distorted but he could see the dark hair and blue tunic well enough. He shook his head slightly to clear it and that was a mistake, he grabbed his head as the room swam. A strong arm grabbed his and kept him from falling.

 

“Thanks. What did they give us? Is this what they gave you earlier?” he asked, opening his eyes and trying to focus on Spock once more. The Vulcan’s eyes burned into his own and he found it easier to focus slightly now that the man was closer.

 

“Yes. And I have been given something else as well.” The voice sounded odd, McCoy tried his best to push past the drug’s effects and look into Spock’s eyes with a professional point of view, and he saw the Vulcan’s eyes were dilated so much there was barely a ring of dark brown around them. McCoy wondered if his looked like that too.

 

//Not quite as dilated...the blue is still there. So beautiful….I could lose myself in those eyes. So like the ocean my mother took me to see on Earth as a small child.//

 

McCoy was surprised at the telepathic speech almost as much as what Spock had revealed to him. “Hunh?” he asked inelegantly.

 

//I see now why he chose you – **_took you_** – I would take you now.//

 

McCoy glanced around and saw a vague shape that must be Jim. He dared not let Jim know what Spock was saying…and the aliens…where were the aliens?

 

//Hiding like the cowards they are – they will be punished for what they did to you, T’hyla.//

 

Leonard, tried to free his arm from Spock’s, but found he couldn’t. Concentrating as best he could with the drugged feeling weighing his mind down he responded, //I am not **your** T’hyla// he stated firmly.

 

//He stole you from me…he knew you and I were destined to be together. He is old, he is clinging to the past – you _and I were meant to be – we **will** be_.//

 

Leonard was beginning to become scared, obviously whatever else they’d given Spock was giving him a feeling of possession and possibly lust. He had a dreadful idea of just what the aliens were planning to have happen here. And with Spock’s hand gripping him so hard on his arm and McCoy unable to even begin to remember how to raise his mental shields – his thoughts were laid open, bare to the Vulcan clutching him.

 

//Forget the cowards for a moment. Can you honestly say you are not attracted to me?// Spock demanded.

 

McCoy tried desperately to remember the concepts of shielding, the first step…the first step was to clear the mind…he tried and could not help but do the opposite – jumbled daydreams of this Spock’s eyes on him and wondering what it would be like to make love to the younger version of his lover all came spilling forth.

 

//You want me and I want you…why fight it?//

 

Spock let go for a moment, but only to savagely turn to a metal table and break through the bonds that held his wrists together. McCoy flinched at the violent action. He tried to take Spock’s momentary distraction to distance himself, but found Spock’s hand gripping him again, hard enough to bruise. Spock’s other hand now came up and found the meld points on Leonard’s face. Leonard nearly fought the meld, but knew from his true T’hyla that such actions would only make things worse so he tried to relax and let this Spock in. Perhaps he could help Spock fight off the effects. He tried desperately to ignore Kirk’s presence somewhere in the room he could no longer see…

 

**He was inside Spock’s mind, no – he was in his own, he was full of lust, no he was scared and trying not to give in to it – he was in _need desperate with the need to connect – so lonely and so in need –_ **no** , he was a doctor and he knew the drug making Spock act this way. It must be a strong aphrodisiac, he was a patient in need, he was not scared anymore, he had no judgment on the man, take what was needed…**

 

Spock blinked and shook his head, struggling as McCoy had earlier with the drugs.

 

//NO – this is wrong – it is the drugs – I am not myself – I will not give in!// Spock suddenly shouted in Leonard’s mind.

 

McCoy winced, //But I can feel the need, you will not feel relief until you have completed the act – and furthermore, we won’t be let off the hook so lightly. But if you can retain as much control as possible – perhaps you will not hurt me as badly as they think.//

 

Spock pulled out of the meld as if burned and turned away, letting Leonard go so abruptly that McCoy fell, both from physical and mental pain.

 

***

 

Dinian threw a data padd at the viewport, “What the blazes is taking so long? Why doesn’t he fuck him? He seemed ready to and then he just grabbed his face and then turns away! Maybe I should inject some more of the drug…or maybe Vulcans don’t fuck humans. Perhaps I should give it to the other human.” Then he seemed to think on it and a manic smile filled his face as he thought of taking the aphrodisiac himself, but just as he was about to voice it he saw the Vulcan turn back and haul the human up.

 

“Finally!” he chortled.

 

Jakar glanced back at Delmak and his friend gave a slight nod and then gestured for Jakar to look back at the scene being played out. Not quite yet, but Jakar was more certain of his alliance.

 

***

 

Spock hauled McCoy up to his feet, he took his arms and broke the bindings against the table as he’d done for himself, the movement sent a jarring pain up his arms and McCoy gasped. Spock was silent, he did not respond even to McCoy’s attempts to ask him what he was up to telepathically. He was scared now. Was Spock giving the captors their show or was he truly going to rape him? That was the first time he allowed himself to think the word _rape_. For that was obviously what was going to happen. Spock ripped off McCoy’s shirt and pulled his pants down to his ankles, pushing the human over the cold metal table. Leonard shivered, not only from the cold, but from fear.

 

//Spock?// he tried again. //Please answer me!//

 

//Quiet// came a brusque reply and there was no other response after that. Leonard felt tears running down his face, he desperately wished **his** Spock was here. McCoy wanted to be back in that small hot room alone with his lover. Even in the throws of Plak Tow he had not hurt Leonard any more than he could help it. He wished himself onto that hot desert world, he sought out the comfort of that hard pallet in his Spock’s room – he was **there** – he was **safe** – _this was NOT happening…_

All during this Jim Kirk was yelling his head off. Screaming at Spock to stop, pleading with him to listen to reason, ordering him to cease or he would be kicked out of the service, finally threatening to kill the Vulcan if he didn’t stop. McCoy only dimly heard his captain, his friend’s voice in the distance and wished vaguely that Jim didn’t have to witness this.

 

***

 

Dinian cackled, “Oh it **does** work, _magnificent_. We noted both species reproductive organs were outside their body and exceedingly vulnerable to attack, but now we get to see one in action. Ah, see how it turns greener, and it grows larger!”

 

Jakar watched with faint disgust, he was interested to see the Vulcan’s odd behavior before the rape and the watching human’s rage, but the actual rape of two aliens was too much for him to stomach. It was not right for a Cardassian to enjoy watching the pair mate. It was dishonorable conduct, possibly insanity for Dinian to become so excited. He waited, toe tapping impatiently on the floor until he forced himself to still it, not that his Gul would notice, so fanatically did he watch the scene before them.

 

***

 

McCoy felt Spock’s fingers inside him and it took every bit of will power to not tense. He must be relaxed as possible, there was no lubricant, and this was going to hurt. Badly. Spock spat in his hand and Leonard tried unsuccessfully to not picture Spock covering his cock with it. He was dimly aware of Kirk yelling, but that only made it worse.

 

“ _Shut up, Jim_ , he can’t help it. Just be quiet…and close your eyes,” he said in a forceful, but even tone that surprised even himself, whatever they’d given him might be having the opposite effect. Now instead of making him extra sensitive to the situation, he seemed far off, as if viewing the scene from somewhere in the corner of the room, the physician part of himself cataloging what would need doing once help arrived or they were at least left alone again the rest of himself he allowed to float somewhere else.

 

Jim finally seemed to realize he was only making it worse for his friend and was silent, but whether he turned away from the scene or watched Leonard had no clue, he didn’t want to turn his head to see, he returned his mind to that hot planet and remembered seeing its first sunrise – how beautiful it had been. ‘What had the original Vulcan’s sunrises been like? What beautiful works of art and cultural artifacts had been lost? He knew he could see holos of things that no longer existed in the databanks of the ship, but it wasn’t the same as seeing things like that in person. He wished he’d taken the time to try to visit the planet before it was gone, but he’d only gone in space after joining Starfleet and even if he’d been disposed to travel Vulcan likely would have been last on his list then. A sad mistake, he tried to focus on the new artworks the Vulcan colonists had been up to before he’d left. He’d speak with his Spock about them, go visit him. He so wanted to be enfolded in _those_ arms again…

 

He felt the first tentative thrust in him and he had his first inkling that Spock was not as enthusiastic as he was acting. He dimly wondered if it mattered whether Spock still felt the unnatural lust or if he was merely acting the part for the aliens – the result would be the same.

 

The next thrust put him all the way in and Leonard howled in pain despite himself. Spock cried out as well, he then began to thrust in earnest, one hand left McCoy’s hips to touch his face and Leonard struggled to keep them from reaching the meld points. Spock stopped trying and he resumed his pace, every thrust bringing forth a new cry from Leonard. He felt the tearing and the blood, it almost helped ease the passage, though it also hurt more. He heard sobbing cries and wasn’t sure if it was himself or maybe Jim. Jim – he shouldn’t have to witness this. He would only blame himself for not being able to stop this. McCoy focused on Jim’s feelings, the cold table beneath him, Spock’s hot breath and the searing heat of his chest on Leonard’s barely healing back. At some point Spock had taken his top off. He felt the wiry hairs on Spock’s chest and desperately tried not to compare it to his T’hyla’s during the Pon Farr.

 

One, two, three more erratic thrusts and then Spock pulled him tightly against him and came. McCoy squeezed his eyes shut as he felt it rush into his body. He was grateful his body had not betrayed him by becoming hard. It seemed as if Spock either didn’t know where the prostate was or had gone out of his way to avoid it. At least he was spared _that_. He felt himself being laid gently on the table and Spock slip out of him. Blood, cum and other foul liquids ran down his legs. He was humiliated - and to think only hour since his torture when he’d thought losing bladder control was humiliation. ‘Ah well,’ he thought bitterly to himself, ‘we learn something new every day. Like how low one can sink into degradation.’

 

Kirk’s voice was hoarse from his screaming, but he cleared his throat and whispered loudly, “Bones, are you all right?”

 

‘What a _stupid_ question,’ McCoy thought distantly, and then he slid off the table and into a heap on the floor, thankfully, finally, unconscious.  

 

***

 

Dinian laughed uproariously. “Oh, that was FUN! Well, fun to _watch._ ”

 

Jakar looked at him questioningly, his face carefully neutral otherwise. “You want to do more than watch, sir?”

 

Gul Dinian sighed suddenly and looked longingly at the room, now quiet as the Vulcan retreated into a corner of the room alone, elbows on his knees, his fingertips together, touching his forehead, seemingly lost in thought. And the human it had just raped had fallen unconscious, what a _bore_. His eyes turned to the human still hanging on a hook, he seemed to be trying to quietly wake his friend on the floor.

 

“Oh, well…perhaps. After all, why should the Vulcan have all the fun. That one,” he pointed at Kirk, “seems rather exotic. Perhaps another experiment is in order…this time with notes from my own _personal_ experience.”

 

And that was what finally decided it for Jakar and Delmak – Cardassians were obsessed with racial purity and while there were oftentimes those allowed to indulge in such perversions of mating with aliens willing or unwilling, but they were only ignored during wartime. Or by those with great discretion or in a position of great power within Cardassia Prime. There was no war going on and Dinian was far from the last two criteria.

 

“Indeed, Gul Dinian,” Jakar heartily replied as if he thought it an excellent idea, “after all, you wouldn’t want sloppy seconds after the Vulcan. The one hanging by the hook looks far more enticing.”

 

Dinian was so sunk in his madness that he laughed and slapped Jakar on the back, completely lacking his natural Cardassian suspicion that kept their species alive. He was glad to see his Glinn finally on board with his entertaining ideas. “Yes, indeed. And maybe you’d like the Vulcan, eh? Or we can clean up the one on the floor. Perhaps Delmak will have him,” he chortled.

 

“Thank you, my Liege.” Delmak stepped forward as if eager to be included, meanwhile pulling out a dagger silently from its sheath strapped to his thigh.

 

Dinian stood up and clasped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly in anticipation.

 

“Raise the room temperature to acceptable levels. Torturing them in that vicious cold was bad enough, I want to enjoy _this_. Jakar, what do you think of-” whatever he was about to ask Jakar was lost as the dagger struck him neatly between the armored scales of his neck. Delmak had always had an artistic way with his blade. Dinian never felt the death blow, but simply fell to the floor with a thud.

 

 _Gul_ Jakar stood and clasped his friend on the shoulder in congratulations. Delmak nodded solemnly, but there was an ambitious and predatory gleam in his eye. He had enjoyed his handiwork. His ally slipped out the door while Jakar punched a button for the intercom, “This is Gul Jakar speaking. Gul Dinian has had an unfortunate accident while sharpening his weapons. I hereby promote crewmember Delmak as Glinn. There will be a mandatory meeting in the conference room in one hour. Clean up the prisoners and return them to their cell. I will then inform you of your new orders - ones which will return our ship and crew to honor and homewards to Cardassia Prime as soon as possible.”

 

He knew that final sentence was the one that got the entire remaining crew on his side. There was an audible cheer throughout the decks and a stamping of feet. He had won them over, though there still might be one or two to watch out for, those who Dinian had favored. He would watch and dispatch where necessary.

 

But for now, he wanted those Federation men off his ship and to get as far away from the mess as possible. He watched as two crew members, still clothed in their robes and gloves hauled the unconscious human over a shoulder as the one on the hook yelled at him, ah yes, the Captain. The other Cardassian backhanded him and then unhooked him. They transported away to the cell.

 

The Vulcan remained in the corner awaiting his turn, his eyes turned to the mirror and if Jakar didn’t know better he’d swear the alien could see right through the mirror and at him. He saw the deadly glare and wondered if he should put the Vulcan down as a precaution, but then shook himself out of the impulse. He would dump the three on the nearest class M planet and leave them to their own devices. He wanted no more to do with the whole messy business. He kicked Dinian’s body once out of frustration for all the work he had left to clean up after and all the work to get them honorably returned to Cardassia. The man had died too easily.

 

The two crewmembers transported back and slowly approached the Vulcan, blasters ready at hand. At first Jakar thought he would be returning only the humans to their kind, but the Vulcan suddenly stepped forward and allowed himself to be transported without so much as a word. Jakar sighed in relief and was surprised at himself. It wasn’t that he cared about the aliens; he simply wanted the matter **done** with – and the more of their captives they returned the better. They’d be unable to identify them and they would undoubtedly look for their vessel, but Jakar already had plans to improve their engines’ status (Dinian was such a lazy commander he’d allowed their once superior and efficient technology to slowly degrade) and they’d be out of this part of the system as soon as possible.

 

He kicked Dinian one more time and left the observation room. He would return home in full honor despite the idiot’s actions. He would feel the heat of his home planet and drink the Kanar from his family’s estates once more.

 

***

Kirk had never had true affection or closeness in his family. After his father’s death, his mother had changed, or so his older brother Sam said. She had never gotten over the death of her first husband and had married Frank out of loneliness and a need to have someone to watch over her boys as she left them behind to travel under whatever pretence she could find. Frank had been kind at first, at least to Jim. But Sam had always quarreled with him, and when Sam had left and Jim had crashed the car, it had been nothing but fights and angry words shouted across rooms at both parents if his mother graced them with her presence at all. He didn’t know quite how to comfort someone. He tried approaching McCoy who was huddled in a corner of the cell, but that had made Leonard wave him off.

 

“I’m fine, Jim. Nothing a dermal generator won’t fix. And my own bed. Just get us the _hell_ off this ship.” The last was said with a hint of wild desperation that McCoy obviously hated letting slip so he bit his lip and stayed silent. Jim had tried just one more time to talk to him and had been rebuffed again. He could understand it, he and Leonard were a lot alike in that respect. Neither wanted pity.

 

The two captors reappeared with Spock between them. They let go and transported out again as quickly as they always did. Jim had no idea what to say and Spock obviously wasn’t in the mood to speak. He turned away from his captain and went to the opposite corner of the room to sit just as he had in the other room, leaving Jim in the middle of it, uncertain what to do. A feeling he never liked to experience.

 

Escape. Definitely. But, there seemed damn little chance of it still. Their captors were too fucking clever and strong, they left no openings so far. The mounting anger and frustration in Kirk made him want to put his fist through something, _anything_ , but he was a captain now and that type of behavior was beneath him, he reminded himself not for the first time since he’d taken command of the Enterprise.

 

Jim knew it was irrational to be angry at Spock. The man had been drugged, obviously still was by his glassy eyes and the lack of his usual poker face. Spock looked longingly at McCoy, but he kept his hands clutched around his knees, pulled tight against his chest. He remembered Bones telling him how important it was to keep Spock warm in the cold room, but he doubted Spock was in any condition to suffer such intimacy at the moment. And who knew how he’d react with those drugs still in him?

 

His frustrated ruminations were getting him nowhere. He was saved from losing his composure completely by the arrival of one of the aliens suddenly. A translator was pulled from his pocket. It was _one_ alien. Jim considered the benefits of attack, but the alien apparently read him easily and pulled a blaster out of another pocket, though he kept it pointed down.  

 

“I apologize for the behavior inflicted upon you under the orders of the **former** commander of this ship.” The alien said carefully, making sure the captives heard the word ‘former’ clearly.

 

“As its current commander, I now seek to make what amends I can afford you. There was a transporter sound again, but instead of an alien, a bundle of blankets and familiar items. “These are the medical supplies and emergency rations we found aboard your shuttle as well as some blankets. I will raise the temperature in the room as well. You are being transported to the nearest class M planet, which should take us one standard hour to arrive at. You will then be left there with the emergency beacon we also retrieved from your shuttle. There is a Starfleet ship following us at some distance, I trust you will be rescued very quickly.” The alien slid the translator back in his pocket and made to hiss the command to leave. Kirk jumped to his feet, the disruptor was immediately aimed at him, Jim spread his hands out to show no aggression.

 

“Why did you abduct us in the first place?! Why did you torture us?! _Why_ -” but the alien transported away without answering a single question. Jim stood there angrily for a moment fuming at his impotence and then remembered the bundle. He immediately took a blanket to each man in their corners. McCoy shivered under it and pulled it tight under his chin, he still had no shirt, Spock had ripped it and the aliens hadn’t replaced it, though they’d cleaned him up and given him pack the prison pants. Spock looked at the blanket listlessly until Kirk draped it roughly over his shoulders and stalked away. He was going to have to deal with his temper, he reminded himself, Spock was a victim, too. It was just hard to remember with the images still burned in his brain – images he would never forget, no matter how hard he would try. He next pulled out the med kit and went to McCoy first.

 

“Bones? Leonard.” He said louder. Leonard looked him in the eye finally, his eyes dilated, but seeming to finally see him. “Physician heal thyself,” he said with lame humor hoping to snap his friend out of his stupor. “I know the basics of first aid, but you’ll have to help me out a bit here, do you think we can counteract the drug in your system?”

 

McCoy stared at him for what seemed an eternity and then dragged himself up, wincing, and staying on one hip. “No, I have no idea what it is. It’ll have to work itself through our systems. I can heal some other problems, though.” He shakily reached a hand out for the dermal regenerator. His hands could barely hold the thing and Jim knew full well that his back and…other areas…were not within his reach.

 

“Bones, you trust me, don’t you?” he asked his friend softly. McCoy shuddered, but nodded. “Let me do it. I don’t know how far we can trust our new ‘commander’ of the ship and if he’s to be believed, but did you hear we’ll be picked up by the Enterprise soon? We can wait for rescue if you want, but…”

 

Leonard shook his head, “No, I don’t want anyone else to know. Not in my sickbay. They’ll never look at me the same way again.”

 

‘And neither will either of you,’ Jim could almost hear him say.

 

Jim nodded with understanding, “Then let me heal you as best I can, okay, turn over, don’t worry, I’ll keep the blanket up,” he said as McCoy sent a wild glance across the room at Spock.

 

It was a job for someone with far more training than Kirk had, but with Bones terse instructions he managed to patch his friend up as best he could. He healed the torn tissues first, an embarrassing, but essential task. He felt McCoy tense and then relax slightly as the pain must’ve eased slightly. The welts on his back had been left untreated for too long for the dermal generator to fully heal; the scar tissue was thick and deep. His friend would most likely have permanent scars there. He felt his resentment grow for the abductors.

 

“It’s too risky for anything powerful, but give me the mildest painkiller in the kit, it’ll take the edge off.” McCoy said. “And you can get your revenge in jabbing me with that hypospray if you want now,” he said with lame humor.

 

Jim grinned and went along with him. “Yeah, but then you’ll just jab me harder next time, won’t you? I’m not falling for that. I **knew** you were doing it to me on purpose.” Bones made an attempt to smile and failed. Jim gently gave him the hypospray and then McCoy clumsily struggled to his feet.

 

“Wait a second, Bones, what are you doing?”

 

“My job,” he said with professional detachment. Reaching down with a painful grunt he picked up his med kit and slowly approached Spock.

 

Spock shook his head at his approach. “I require no medical treatment.”

 

“Like hell,” McCoy said sounding almost like his old self. “I need to take readings of the other drug they gave you, too and the reactions to both drugs in your system to analyze back on the Enterprise. Not to mention all the other cuts and bruises you have. I’ve got my tricorder back, and as CMO, I’m ordering you to submit.”

 

Jim wondered at the phrasing, but let it go. He stood next to McCoy. “Captain’s orders as well, Spock. Can you stand or would you rather lie down?”

 

Spock stood finally; eyes firmly fixed on a point somewhere over their shoulders at the distant wall of their cell and submitted himself to the exam. McCoy immediately began to attend to him in a thoroughly professional manner. “Lift your shirt. Now take off your pants all the way – I need to heal the cuts before they scar further.” He ascertained that Spock had no internal injuries from the earlier torture and then finally finished his exam and turned to Kirk. “I can fix the nose better now, if you like. Your snoring is pretty bad.”

 

Jim wondered at McCoy’s attitude: a mess one minute and snapped back into professional the next. He decided to let his friend take charge, it must help him after all that feeling of being vulnerable.

 

His nose fixed and his own bruises and injuries taken care of, he was feeling almost normal again when they suddenly felt the transporter on them again. Without so much as a warning they were left on a class M planet, not too cold, but barren of any shelter and Kirk immediately set up the beacon as the other two watched silently, each lost in their own thoughts. They were rescued by the Enterprise within the hour.

 ***


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to all of you who insisted I post the sequel to Once More. All the kudos and comments mean the world to me. They really make my day and encourage me. Thank you!!
> 
> And finally, a bit of comfort for poor Leonard.

 ***

They were told they’d been missing only two days, but it felt like two months or maybe even years. The three responded to their crew’s obvious enthusiasm at their return as best they could and held off questions until they’d had a chance to recover. They’d all been shuffled off to sickbay for better healing, though all three had slight physical scars that would remain unless they wanted to consider further plastic surgery to cover them in the future. But it was the mental scars that were the biggest ones left and Jim knew that the men they’d been two days ago were gone. The three men had returned, but they were almost strangers now.

 

None of them gave anything but the most barebones of their ordeal: they’d been tortured, but not asked questions, there seemed to be a mutiny on the ship and the new commander had left them behind. They had no clue as to the alien’s identities and they doubted they’d ever know for sure.

 

Scotty reported how they’d followed them as best they could, but that the traces were gone.   Apparently whoever was in charge of their engines now had cleared up the problem and the ship had vanished without further trace or clue to their identity. Jim was torn between the desire to seek out the ship and confront their attackers and relief that they didn’t have to face them again. He had a strong desire to put the whole ordeal behind him; more so for McCoy and Spock. Their relationship had been strained before all this, now what would happen? He dreaded sleeping at night, nightmares woke him every night and he’d only witnessed that final cruel act…what must the other two be going through?

 

***

Leonard rubbed his reddened eyes and tried to focus on his office consol and failed, _again_. No amount of coffee or stimulants could keep him going any longer. He knew he’d have to sleep eventually, but ever since the first night he’d woken up screaming (thank god for the soundproofing panels on his walls) he had tried not to. Bones had already put in for personal time off and been granted it by Jim readily. The captain had tried several times to engage him in a game of chess or a drink, but he’d begged off each time with lame excuses he knew Jim could see through, but respected nonetheless.

 

Leonard knew his friend was worried for him, but he couldn’t handle looking into those eyes right now. And the other person he could not stand to see every day: Spock. The feeling was mutual if Spock’s own behavior was any clue. They hadn’t been alone in a room or corridor once since the ‘ _incident_.’ Spock was preoccupied with more experiments than usual and spent extra time on the bridge or in his quarters doing whatever Vulcans did in their rooms. Meditate or play his harp or probably do more work.

 

The doctor finally stood up and gave in to the inevitability of sleep and headed towards his quarters, his eyes on the floor just above him lest he pass someone who tried to engage him in conversation. The crew in general knew only that the three men had been interrogated and then released. The details were classified since it was an unknown species and his own medical team knew to keep their mouths shut. Not only out of patient confidentiality, but because of the look in McCoy’s eyes when he’d been treated. And they only knew of the first day’s torture. If it wasn’t for Jim and the final ‘mercy’ from the aliens then there’d be even more pity in his team’s eyes. There were already rumors circulating the ship, but nothing quite near the truth yet and he hoped it stayed that way.

 

Gawd, how could he stay on this ship now? Seeing Spock every day, reliving the event every time he closed his eyes…

 

He entered his quarters and looked accusingly at the bed as if it were to blame. He decided to indulge in an extra ration of hot water in the shower, scrubbing hard with Starfleet issued soap. Clean, he could never get **clean** enough, no matter how hard he tried, finally the timer stopped and the water turned cold. Two more minutes of this and he’d be out of water for the rest of the week and have only sonic shower privileges available. Damn it. He hated this ship now. He wanted to go **_home_** , but where _was_ home anymore? He’d signed up for Starfleet and for _this_ mission on _this_ ship; there was precious little chance of getting out of it now. Especially since Nero had effectively drained Starfleet of so many vessels and experienced officers. Heading towards what they thought was a possible geological disaster and rescue mission, hundreds of experienced Starfleet Medical personnel had been lost.

 

His comm beeped, letting him know of the messages still waiting to be heard. He had a good feeling who the three messages were from – Spock – _his Spock_. He was desperate to see his T’hyla’s face, to touch him, though it was impossible. Yet he had not even been able to bring himself to view the messages yet. Which wasn’t fair to the older man…his Spock had no idea what had occurred and he was most likely worried about the absence of response. Leonard steeled himself and sat down to view them. He started at the beginning.

 

“Leonard, I bring greetings from New Vulcan, several of the younger healers are wondering if you will be visiting again soon. I have told them of how long the Enterprise’s missions usually are and that it will likely not be for some time before you are in this sector and have time to visit. I believe you made quite an impression on the one named T’Larsk. I’ve been informed you promised to bring back some old Earth historical documents on the Chinese art of acupuncture. There is a similar practice in old Vulcan documents, now lost, unfortunately, but I have tried to write down all I remember studying of it, however briefly…”

 

The Ambassador prattled on in the same vein for awhile and seeing the lined face of his own, older Spock had not been the ordeal Leonard had feared, instead he found himself smiling for the first time in as long as he could remember. He crossed his arms on the desk and settled his chin on them, half listening and half enjoying watching his T’hyla speak. After a few minutes the older Spock leaned slightly closer to his monitor and spoke softly. “…and I, of course, miss you most of all as I am sure you would insist on hearing. Please let me know as soon as you have leave available so I can rendezvous with you if you cannot make it to New Vulcan.” The older Spock leaned ever so slightly closer to the screen and said in a lower voice, “I long to touch you once more and to hear your thoughts…to be as one again,” he then leaned back to his formal stiff back posture, “Farewell, for now. Ambassador Spock, out.”

 

To touch him – to meld with him…Leonard shivered, he didn’t want his T’hyla to know of his ordeal, though it would be unavoidable once they met again.

 

He sighed and started the next message. “Leonard, T’hyla, I understand your business aboard the Enterprise must keep you quite busy, but I confess I had hoped to hear from you by now. I used some rather unconventional channels and discovered the Enterprise is undergoing a rescue mission for missing members of its crew, though my sources could not tell me who was missing at the time as it was uncertain. Please respond as soon as possible.”

 

Leonard winced at that. He should have known his Spock would find out and he’d been safely aboard the Enterprise for several days now. He should have listened to these messages and reassured his bondmate by now. He quickly punched the button for the next message.

 

“Leonard, T’hyla, I now know why you did not answer my first two messages, but I do not know how you fare beyond your physical health was listed as non-critical when you were picked up. I am sorely tempted to break certain ethical, as well as security, codes to discover your condition if you do not respond to this message within two days. I will not push you for information, I simply seek to hear your voice and see your face for now, but I have already requisitioned a vessel and time to rendezvous with you. Either give me a time and place to meet or I _will_ find a way to meet up with the Enterprise on my own.”

 

McCoy quickly checked the time/date stamp on the message, just less than 46 hours ago. Not wanting a scene on the Enterprise, he quickly requested a message to New Vulcan. His fingers drummed restlessly on the desk, hoping Spock had not left yet. The last thing he needed were two Spocks on this ship. Especially when _his_ Spock found out what had happened.

 

***

 

Spock’s bags were packed and he was finishing notes before heading towards his waiting ship when he heard his comm beep.

 

Leonard. It had to be. He quickly answered the comm. His first instinct was to admonish his T’hyla for worrying him and make a comment on the human capacity for procrastination, but one look at the haunted red eyes of his bondmate stopped him.

 

“Spock? I’m all right, no need to race over here and check on me like a child,” Leonard said softly. Normally such words would have been said in a fractious voice, but his T’hyla sounded exhausted and ill. He was trying to hide it, but there was no point. Spock could see plainly that Leonard was anything but ‘all right.’

 

“Leonard, I am relieved to hear from you, I was just getting ready to leave and come to you.”

 

McCoy shook his head, his eyes nervous. “No! No, don’t do that. I’ve put in for some leave. It’s in two days and I will be able to make it to Starbase 6. Can you meet me there?”

 

Spock would do anything right now to calm him; he wished desperately that he could touch him right now. Those bloodshot eyes and dark circles spoke volumes. What had Leonard been through? “Of course, Leonard, I will meet you there. I will not push you for details, but I do wish you would try to get some sleep before we meet. You look ill.”

 

Leonard shrugged it off. “I’m fine. Nothing a bit of time off this ship and near you won’t cure. I’ll take a sleep hypo if I need it.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow at that, from what he knew in his own universe, he had just heard his T’hyla lie to his face.

 

“I do not believe you will…previous experiences with your counterpart and my knowledge of you lead me to believe otherwise. I can see from here you are not taking care of yourself and on the verge of physical collapse. You will not be able to take a vacation leave if your own medical team sees you like this and confines you to sickbay. Take the medication and sleep, Leonard. I _will_ see you in two days, either on Starbase 6 or on the Enterprise…” he threatened as gently as he could. He knew no other way to make the human comply.

 

His T’hyla’s brow creased and he scowled for only an instant and then he slumped forward, giving in. A sign that caused more alarm in Spock than any other response would have done. “ **Alright** – I _promise_. One sleep hypo coming up. But _you_ have to promise to go to Starbase 6 and wait for me. I need to get off this ship.”

 

Spock nodded solemnly, “Thank you, I promise not to interfere with your plans then. Sleep well, T’hyla.”

 

His bondmate shook his head slightly, but mumbled “I’ll try.” He then signed off without further discussion.

 

Spock sat back in his chair and rubbed at his temples with his fingertips, he wondered just what had happened in such a short amount of time that McCoy, Kirk and his counterpart had been missing for such obvious psychological damage to have occurred. He had seen his own McCoy endure physical torture, imprisonment, and many dangerous episodes during his service in Starfleet, but the man looked as haunted as he had after the Mirror Universe incident if not more so. Could something similar have occurred? The time, place and conditions were not the same so it was highly unlikely they had encountered their mirror universe selves.

 

Spock had not wished to be a Starfleet officer for quite some time now, but he did miss his contacts and his access to necessary resources to look into their mission further. He was further hindered by being from another time and universe as most of his long standing or fairly recent contacts were not even born yet. He had lost much of his old life and influence, no matter what he had gained on New Vulcan.

 

He now knew the frustration experienced by many Federation civilians that were married or otherwise related or involved with Starfleet officers. It was difficult to be ‘on the outside looking in,’ as humans put it.

 

But as a Vulcan he had a far greater ability to set aside the frustration and focus on what little facts he knew. He could see the sudden panic at the thought of Spock intercepting the Enterprise. Spock himself did not wish to have to resort to such an event. He wished to keep his interference with the ship’s future as possible. His own relationship with McCoy was damaging enough. He had not sought it out, indeed he had gone out of his way to avoid it, but this universe’s McCoy was every bit as stubborn as his own had been. But the panic in his T’hyla’s eyes concerned him. He had yet to meet with his own counterpart to discuss the bonding that had occurred and he had a feeling that the main reason he did not want Spock near the Enterprise was for the two to come in contact. He had promised his counterpart he would discuss the matter with him, whatever had happened in the meantime might complicate things further, but surely Leonard knew it was only a matter of time before they would meet again.

 

Yet having seen the obvious distress and physical toll McCoy had recently suffered he would not pursue the matter until his T’hyla was ready to deal with it.

 

Spock returned to finishing the details for his departure. He now had time to requisition the transport officially, rather than ‘borrowing’ it as he had been about to do before McCoy’s call.

 

***

 

McCoy paced his room and tried to calm himself. He could not meet his bondmate in this agitated state and his transport left in twenty minutes, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his off duty pants and tried to quell the rising panic. He had tried to sit down on the floor and go over the meditation techniques Spock had taught him, but as usual his disorganized human mind simply refused to stop dwelling on exactly what he was trying not to think of – Spock had tried his best, but he had admitted his own McCoy had never mastered the art of it.

 

_‘You are an emotional, passionate being and the idea of dropping those feelings or letting them slip away from your mind, even temporarily was something that he always resisted. He was able to distance himself for small periods of time on lesser matters to gain perspective, but on matters where he was emotionally involved or had a strong opinion on…and there were few he did not have a strong opinion on,’ Spock had raised a sardonic eyebrow at McCoy and Leonard couldn’t help raising one of his own in mock argument and then smiling in acknowledgement, ‘those matters he could never distance himself from.’_

_Leonard had leaned forward and gently traced the older man’s wrinkled brow. He did not see the age as marring the face, but rather enhancing it – showing the century and a half of experience, knowledge, loss…and Leonard liked to think that there was joy written there, too. He had seen it in the meld with his counterpart and he saw a flicker of it now and then with him. ‘Did you ever regret that he could not see things as you did?’ He asked, but he rather knew the answer already from the bond._

_‘At times, in the beginning. I worried his passionate nature would only hinder him or cause trouble during times of crisis, but slowly I came to see that his perspective gave me new insights and offered a different point of view that complimented my own in ways I never could have foreseen when I first met him. And later…I came to truly appreciate our differences, I would not be the person I am today without him. Without you…’ he spoke softly, tracing Leonard’s smooth brow in the same manner. ‘I am fortunate that you are every bit as stubborn in this universe as my own…but I do worry I have caused more harm than good in your life. This relationship is not natural for you. It is not the one you would have had. But then, I already caused the trouble with Nero’s appearance in the past.’ He had fallen silent after that and Leonard had leaned forward to kiss him, hoping to convey some of his sorrow and love at the same time. To distract his lover from dwelling on something both knew he had done his best to correct given the circumstances._

 

McCoy realized he had stopped pacing with that memory surfacing, half smiling at the memory of those few quiet moments he’d had with his bondmate after the Pon Farr. He could not wait to see him again – his worries were shoved into the furthest corner of his mind and he focused on the positive part of what was coming. Getting off this ship and seeing the one person he needed most. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He was ready now.

 

***

 

Commander Spock noted the time the transport left with the few crewmembers granted shore leave as it left dock. He knew that McCoy had requested time off and that Kirk had readily granted it, giving him medical leave instead of deducting from his vacation time – he’d also offered it to Spock, but he had of course refused. Kirk was not taking any leave time off, though as a human he likely should have done so as well, but from what he knew of his young enthusiastic captain, he preferred to deal with his problems with more work. Or with women. The transport’s destination, Starbase 6 was rather limited in such a capacity and had little entertainment value which is why so few crewmembers had decided to request time off. They were hoping a more amenable post or planet would come along further into the mission.

 

Spock also knew why McCoy had taken the time off for the Starbase – he was meeting with his counterpart. He had not spoken a word of it to Spock; indeed they had not spoken at all beyond the absolute necessary communication between senior members of the staff and even then – usually through memos or messages passed between their two staffs. He knew the medical and science staffs, as close together as they worked, had read a great deal into their division heads silent and strictly business communications. Not that Spock was normally anything but professional and detached, but the doctor’s change in mood and demeanor had been noted. His Vulcan hearing had overheard much speculation on what might have happened to alter the doctor so since their abduction. It was also from the ship’s scuttlebutt that he heard of the doctor’s plans to take time off before he saw the paperwork himself. He had then quickly deduced and ascertained that Ambassador Spock was heading to that base at the same time period as well.

 

He had briefly considered contacting his counterpart to set up a time to discuss the bonding as originally planned, but just as quickly dismissed it. He had no doubt such a discussion was still necessary – perhaps more so now than ever before, but he knew that McCoy would not welcome his presence at the base at this time. And, a small part of him that he wished he could dismiss noted that he was no longer as eager to see his counterpart again, either. He did the best he could to deny the human feeling of guilt and returned his focus on his duties. Later on he would have a chance to meditate and decide on a course of action, but for now such human frailty was a luxury he would not allow himself.

 

***

 

Leonard tapped his ID card on the hotel’s counter impatiently waiting for the damn clerk to return to his desk and give him the pass to his rooms. The ride to base had not been a soothing one. Even under the best circumstances he hated riding in shuttles at all, after his crash landing and abduction, he could have sworn the shuttle’s walls were closing in on him despite his best attempts at distraction with his music pod playing soothing classical music and a book in his hands, but he’d paid attention to neither and instead learned he had a new phobia to add to aviophobia – claustrophobia. Great. He’d either have to confront these fears with a therapist or he’d run out of yet another career option. But then, he was already considering leaving Starfleet, wasn’t he? This would be an excellent excuse.

 

Though, with Starfleet so undermanned and Kirk as his captain and McCoy’s reputation for being one of the few that could help reign in his maverick friend when needed – he might not be allowed a psych discharge without a fight. Leonard shoved those thoughts out of his head with great force and locked it in a box in his mind where it would hopefully remain for awhile. Now was not the time to dwell on it, he wanted to get to his room and relax a little before Spock got here if possible.

 

A weathered hand gently placed itself on his still tapping one and stilled it. No chance then – Leonard looked up at his bondmate and found himself smiling sheepishly despite his earlier frustration. “You made it,” he said lamely and wished he could take back the words, but he was at a loss for what else to say. He was now suddenly fighting back tears, it was so good to see the older Spock’s face again after months apart. Spock’s hand was on his and must’ve felt the rollercoaster of emotions in his human mind as he cocked an eyebrow and gently squeezed his hand in reassurance.

 

“I have, and I’ve already secured our lodgings, shall we go up or would you like to send your bag ahead and explore the amenities of the base?” he asked quietly.

 

Leonard shook his head, “One base is much like any other and I’m a bit tired,” he bent to pick up his bag, but Spock scooped it up first. It seemed wrong for a man so much older than him to take his bags, but then Spock was Vulcan and even at his advanced age still stronger and more resilient than most humans in their prime, much less a tired and bedraggled one like McCoy. Leonard tried to summon some energy and not look as bad as he felt, but he had a feeling he was failing miserably.

 

They arrived to a room, not the one McCoy had originally reserved, but one a little more spacious and expensive from the look of the quality in furnishings. Spock set his bag down on the large bed in the bedroom and came back with a slight smile on his face. “I took the liberty of upgrading our lodgings, I hope you don’t mind. I thought you might enjoy your time off more. If I remember correctly the Enterprise quarters can seem a bit cramped to humans after an extended period of time,” he explained most logically, then placed a hand on Leonard’s shoulder and added, “and you did complain about the proper honeymoon accommodations on New Vulcan.”

 

Normally Leonard would have blushed at that statement or laughed, but instead he tensed slightly and knew there was no hiding his reaction from Spock with his hand still on his shoulder. The contact, even through two layers of fabric on his shoulder seemed to burn. He tried to smile, but Spock had already removed his hand and dropped it harmlessly at his side. “I’m sorry, T’hyla, perhaps I was presumptuous. I only wish to spend time with you and talk – you seem to be in distress.”

 

“No – well, there’s no point in lying to you, of course you know there’s something wrong,” McCoy growled, running his fingers through his hair and then scrubbing his face, trying to keep himself from falling to pieces right then and there. He’d only just stepped into the room, now was hardly the time to fall apart on his lover.

 

Spock waited calmly for him to make a decision. Leonard stepped past him to the bedroom on the pretext of putting his clothes and toiletries away, ignoring the elephant in the room. The other man sat down quietly on the bed and watched him. When he was done fussing and couldn’t delay any further Leonard sat down on the bed with him, though not too close. Suddenly this visit didn’t seem like a good idea. He was obviously more unstable than he’d feared. He’d thought escaping the Enterprise would make things easier, but without his work and regimen, he was at loose ends. He gripped the bedding next to him and squeezed it, letting some frustration out on the soft bedspread. Spock’s hand gently touched his again, not covering it this time, but reaching two fingers out to his – a gesture of reassurance and love between bondmates.

 

Leonard couldn’t help responding, his fingers letting go of the covers and touching his in kind. He felt slightly detached from himself as he began to slowly trace his two fingers over Spock’s, the beginning of intimate contact and a tingle of arousal spread through him. He suddenly wanted to forget the last few months and feel Spock’s body pressed against his. Spock hesitated, looking at McCoy, but the human kept his face hidden, his eyes locked on their fingers and he slowly responded by sliding his own fingers over and under and back again. They continued in that manner slowly, their minds tentatively touching and reaching out to one another through the bond. Leonard raised his eyes finally and looked into the liquid dark brown eyes before him and felt no fear for it was illogical – his bondmate would never harm him. He leaned forward and they kissed. Gently at first, as if the first time, then with growing passion, at least on Leonard’s side.

 

He moved trembling fingers to Spock’s robe fasteners and opened them impatiently, nearly tearing one, Spock stilled his hands and finished disrobing himself before help Leonard with his own clothes. They lay down on the bed together and Leonard suddenly realized his nakedness in the glaring light of the room and called for the lights out. He knew Spock would feel the scars, and probably see them with his superior night vision, but that didn’t mean he had to see them in full light just yet.

 

He pushed the thought from his mind and focused on the body before him, mapping out the familiar body he knew from the Pon Farr so well, Spock’s body was still fit and the arms that cradled him close to his too hot skin were strong and protective. McCoy sighed in relief that none of this was sparking any bad memories, only good ones. He traced delicate lines with his tongue down Spock’s torso, knowing full well, the coolness of the drying dampness would raise the Vulcan equivalent of goose bumps and grinned as he found no impediment further down, Spock had been wandering the base in just a robe, no undergarments or pants. “Kinky” he whispered to the Vulcan and knew that Spock would understand his statement with their close connection. He could picture the raised eyebrow somewhere above him and knew he was being scoffed at for thinking Vulcan traditional dress was somehow sexually deviant.

 

Leonard continued his explorations and then when Spock was sufficiently aroused and he felt the strong hands not quite guiding him towards his goal he began to lick and then swallowed the hot member as deeply as he could. He was sure Spock had sufficient self-discipline to be silent throughout the act, but he made gratifying noises if only for Leonard’s sake. He didn’t care, he just loved hearing his lover become vocal, whether from real abandonment or simply as encouragement. He swallowed the bitter seed and then slowly climbed back up the bed and rested his head on Spock’s chest listening to his heartbeat as it slowed back to its usual slow rhythm. He felt his lover’s hot hands caressing him and he enjoyed the sensation until the hands dipped low enough to trigger a sudden reaction from him.

 

“No!” he gasped loudly and stilled Spock’s hands. He called for the lights at 30% and looked at Spock again, embarrassed, but in desperate need of seeing the face beside him. He realized that while he didn’t want Spock to see the evidence of his torture he couldn’t engage in anything more without seeing _his_ Spock was indeed next to him. For one brief moment he’d felt the other’s hands on him. “I’m sorry…I just – I’m not…it’s not necessary at the moment, I’m tired.” He said lamely. Any arousal he’d felt had fled at that moment of panic. He turned over and clutched at the pillow under his head. Damn Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – it was ruining everything, he thought furiously to himself.

 

He felt a tentative touch at the badly healed welts on his back and remembered too late that he had turned up the lights and then displayed his scars to Spock. He forced himself not to tense as Spock traced them gently. “These are very recent,” Spock said quietly.

 

“Yes,” the doctor whispered, closing his eyes even though his lover couldn’t see they were glistening with unshed tears.

 

“When you are ready, you will tell me about them.” It wasn’t a question, but a very firm declaration. McCoy rolled onto his back and shook his head.

 

“That’s just it, I can’t. Even if I wanted to – Starfleet has classified the _incident_.”

 

He looked over to Spock’s now impassive face. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. McCoy sighed, he knew he was only putting off the inevitable. Screw Starfleet regulations. “I – we, that is Jim and I and your counterpart,” he choked out the last, “were returning from a mission when we were struck by an unseen ship and crash landed on a planet, there were two young crewmembers killed on impact then these cloaked aliens beamed down and vaporized them – they were just kids, dammit!” He had yet to really cry for the younger crewmembers he struggled not to let the tears loose now or he may never stop crying. It wasn’t like he hadn’t lost numerous patients and seen many dead Starfleet officers already, but he’d been laughing and talking with them just seconds before they were hit. He could still see the sudden change in their expressions from joy to fear. He could smell their scorched remains still in his nostrils.

 

“Then…then they took us on board their ship…we were never allowed to see their faces or skin – they were always cloaked and gloved with thick boots on…” Leonard found himself spilling the entire story out. The psychologist part of him knew that what he was doing was cathartic and in the long run would help him a great deal, though it wasn’t a cure-all. He was surprised at how easily the words came: how he’d been tortured first, how Kirk and Spock had been tortured and the need to stay warm… The second torture came slightly harder to tell, but he pushed forward, leaving out some details, but sometime during his speech Spock had put one of his hands in his and Leonard knew with their bond he likely saw whatever he didn’t reveal. It was better this way. No secrets between them. To think, he’d been terrified of telling anyone. Especially his T’hyla. And now…now finally someone knew everything. Someone he trusted completely and when he finally ran out of words his throat hitched on a sob and he realized tears had been running down his face for awhile now. He waited for Spock to speak, but his lover instead simply picked up the hand he was holding and kissed it, then brushed back his sweaty bangs from his forehead.

 

“Sleep,” he finally said, softly. “I will watch over you.”

 

He felt safe for the first time since he’d been captured. He **was** safe – his T’hyla had heard it all and seemed to be able to handle it. Of course he could, whyever had he doubted it? Leonard felt his eyes close, his lids too heavy to stay open any longer. One final thought went through his head before sleep claimed him – he was free and he would heal now.

 

***

 

Spock held the exhausted human in his arms without moving for 7.3 hours before McCoy murmured something unintelligible and turned over and away from him. He knew that the Vulcan body temperature had likely overheated him as he noted a light sweat on his lover’s brow and he withdrew from the bed to allow his lover a little more time to rest. He swiftly moved to the computer in the room and began his research. He had some clues as to the true nature of the aliens that had captured and tortured the Enterprise crewmen and he wanted to look into the matter himself. He easily hacked his way through the (to him) antiquated systems he needed and discovered his conjectures were correct. He then debated for several minutes on if and how he should relate this knowledge to Starfleet. A part of him, the long suppressed warrior side of his race wanted to take revenge himself, but the logical, peaceful part of him was far stronger and from what Leonard had revealed, the ringleader of the incident was likely dead anyway. Deep inside there was a voice that still called for revenge for his T’hyla, but he silenced it and tried again to focus on whether or not he should reveal the information he knew to Starfleet. He could not reveal how he knew of the incident, it was classified and also he did not want to alter events in this universe too much. At the moment the Federation had only a passing knowledge of the Cardassian people who were still too far away from their system to be in contact with them much.

 

He thought of all the information he could give them on what he knew of the species, their history, their philosophies, their probable intentions if were still heading in the direction they’d taken in his own universe. But in the end, he knew he could not interfere with this Universe anymore than he already had. He then turned away from the Cardassian element of the situation and recalled the part this Universe’s Spock had played in the rape of his lover. That, too, engendered a feeling of rage and irrational anger, but he quickly dismissed the feelings as he knew as well as McCoy himself knew: they had been drugged and unable to resist their captors’ sadistic plans. From what little he had gotten from McCoy’s drugged memories he knew that his counterpart had resisted the drugs as much as he could and that the rape could have been far worse than it had been. He was also grateful that McCoy had managed to keep Spock from melding with him during the rape itself as it would have most likely caused more serious mental and telepathic damage. A new forced bond between them, or perhaps even sparking an artificial Pon Farr, there were several possibilities, all disconcerting and thankfully avoided.

 

Yet Spock knew that this new development had hurt the necessary bond between the three men even more than Nero’s influence had done. Could Leonard return to the ship and form a friendship with this universe’s Spock now? Would his counterpart be able to handle this situation? He had seen the possessive angry side Spock had let slip during his drugged state. He resented the bond between Leonard and his older counterpart. Spock could not fully blame him. He had interfered with the timeline despite his best intentions. But then again, this Universe’s Spock was not him – and he had to remind himself of that. He had already had a relationship with Uhura, something that had never occurred in his own timeline; he had no way of knowing what new bond this Spock would make or if he would at all. He might choose to purge himself of all emotions as Spock had considered once himself. Already there was some discussion on New Vulcan of a few new disciples to the old rite.

 

Leonard groaned softly from the bed and Spock abandoned his useless ruminations to check on him. His lover’s face was tense and a frown was forming on his lips as his hands gripped and twisted the sheets – a nightmare. Spock brushed his hand against Leonard’s cheek and sensing the fear and panic growing in his mind, he gently soothed it away replacing it with peace and a sense of calm. Leonard’s face slowly relaxed and his hands stopped twisting the sheets. Spock eased him into a more comfortable position and smoothed the sheets over him. He should focus on what he _could_ do right now and that was taking care of his T’hyla. All else must wait, the future was as uncertain as it always was. What would happen was not in his control and he must remember that. Turning to the room’s replicator he studied the menu and planned a nutritious and hearty meal for his lover when he woke.

 

***

 

FIN


End file.
